Song of Dharma
by Fortuna
Summary: AU for breakfast, AU for dinner, AU for supper. Just a light reincarnation story. Rated 'R' for Reggie.
1. In which we meet our heroes

Rowanoake Apartment Complex, S. Keaton St., 1:15 A.M...  
  
If anyone had been awake to look out into the corridor of the fourth floor, they'd have seen two figures walking silently over the threadbare carpet, the larger of the two carrying what looked to be a large, black piece of luggage. The smaller man stopped at one of the doors, pulled a tiny electronic device from his coat pocket, stuck one end of it into a small hole on the keypad by the door, and turned it on. A light on the device came on, flashing red. The man with the luggage shifted a bit under its weight.  
  
"Sakon?"  
  
"What?" came the sharp reply, in a hoarse whisper.  
  
The big man fumbled to get a better grip on his burden. "You sure this is the right place?"  
  
His companion sighed impatiently. "Of course I'm sure. Apt. 99. I remember these things. I even wrote it on a piece of paper." He produced a small scrap of paper from his pocket for the other's inspection. Ninety-nine, written in little numbers. The big man shrugged as best he could with his arms full.   
  
"All right, all right; I was only askin'. ...This thing's bloody heavy! Ain't it done yet?"  
  
"Shhh! It'll be done when it's done."   
  
As if in answer, the light on the device turned solid green, and the door to the apartment slid open. The smaller man cast a brief 'I-told-you' glance and crept inside, his companion not far behind.   
  
"Just set it down?" asked the big man, who was becoming more than a little fatigued by his load. It seemed to be having an effect on his ability to speak in complete sentences as well.  
  
"That's what he said, where he can find it."  
  
They walked into a space with a broken-down sofa pushed against the wall and a small, old television sitting on a crate; a charitable, optimistic person would call it a living room. The big man set the luggage on the floor as carefully as he could without throwing his back out. He straightened up, bracing his hands on the small of his back and stretching.   
  
"I wonder what he wants with this hunk a' junk, anyways," he mused quietly.  
  
Sakon shrugged. "Not our job to know. Now c'mon, we're done. The sooner we're out of here, the better. I hate this part of town."  
  
They left their package on the floor where it lay, and turned to go. Sakon snagged the lock-pick out of the keypad on his way out the door; it immediately slid shut again, the tumblers resetting as though nothing had happened.  
Same place, 2:30 A.M...  
  
This time, our intrepid corridor-observer would have seen a fairly clean-cut looking (very rare, considering the neighborhood) young man wandering drowsily along. Clean-cut meaning, of course, that aside from a few random holes in his ears, the green phoenix tattooed on his shoulder, and the bubble-gum pink hair, there was nothing especially shocking about him. He stopped at Apt. 99 and punched in his keycode mechanically. The door obligingly slid open half-way, a 'clunk' was heard, and all door-related motion abruptly halted. Grumbling a few admirably creative obscenities, the man ducked under the door into his deluxe accommodations. Being a bartender had its perks, one of which was earning enough to live a few blocks away from the nearest housing projects, others of which were regular meals and somewhat regular utilities like electricity and water.  
  
"Oi..." he groaned. Closing time had taken a particularly long time in coming tonight. It wasn't that he didn't like his job; it could be rather...interesting, and there was no heavy lifting or much humiliation involved. There had been a good deal of gorons there this evening, however, and when they joked that they could drink Lake Hylia, folks within hearing range put serious consideration into building protective fences around every nearby reservoir in the area. Our poor little bartender had actually pulled a muscle pouring drinks.   
  
Not bothering to turn on the lights (the light switch was on the other side of the room, anyway), he slipped off his shoes and stumbled off for the bedroom.  
  
"Whoa...Oof!"  
  
And stumble he did, over a large something in the middle of his living room floor, right where it oughtn't be. Picking himself up off the floor, sorer and grouchier than he was a few seconds ago, he felt his way along the wall for the light switch, and finding it, shed a little light on the subject, as it were.  
  
"...Damn."  
Hyrtech Labs, 57th. Ave. N., 2:45 A.M...  
  
The labs are quiet; not a creature is stirring, not even a transgenic mouse. A single security 'bot is making her rounds. She pauses momentarily to check the locks on one of the lab doors. After assuring herself that everything is ship-shape, she makes an approving beep and continues on her way. That laboratory, she has been told, is Important and Restricted, with a capital 'I' and 'R,' respectively. Inside that lab, there are several metal tables, some covered with bits and pieces of electronics and machinery. Leaning against one wall, out of sight of the door, a long, coffin-like storage box hums contentedly, completely oblivious to the fact that it is unoccupied...  
Apt. 99, 2:50 A.M...  
  
Staring at the big black case, the man wondered momentarily if that was what he thought it was. 'How did it get here?' It would explain why his door had jammed if someone had broken in, but there was nothing missing that he knew of. Not that there was really anything worth taking, but if one goes to all the trouble to break into a place, he will at least break a few glass articles and throw clothes about the room for good measure... This was quite possibly the first burglary in history where the burglar had actually left something of his for the homeowner. 'Might as well find out what's in it...' If it turned out to be a vast sum of money or a corpse, he could always call the police.  
  
Kneeling beside the case, he took a minute or so to figure out how the latches worked. Finally getting them undone, he lifted the surprisingly heavy lid. There was a note pinned atop a piece of foam. "Hmmm..." Snatching it up and unfolding it, our bartender became more confused than ever.   
  
'Beneficiary,  
  
Here is your Gift. No thanks are necessary.  
  
Your Good Friend'  
  
It certainly was concise, even if it made no sense at all. Shrugging in resignation, the man lifted the slab of foam.   
  
"........Whoa..."  
  
Nestled in a cocoon of foam in a fetal position was a deactivated 'bot. Only, this one was exponentially swankier than any of the robots the man had ever seen. On an impulse, he poked at its face a few times, as if to see if it would wake up. It didn't, of course. Its blonde hair felt like hair, instead of acrylic, and the tan-colored skin, except for a lack of peach fuzz, was very convincing as well, and it didn't have the sheen to it that most synthetic skin had. And that had felt like metal bones underneath, rather than a shell... 'This thing is probably worth more than I am...' There was no way it was for him. But the note had clearly (as clear as ambiguous can be) said... "This is too cool..."  
  
There didn't seem to be any instruction manual. 'I wonder how you start it?' He felt around a bit on the 'bot's head, wondering where he'd put a switch if he built 'bots. Passing his hand behind its ear, the man heard a soft 'click' followed shortly thereafter by movement as the 'bot started breathing.   
  
"......Cool," the man said, a foolish grin stretching his face. As was stated before, he'd seen 'bots, but never one this nice, and, more importantly, never one that was his. The 'bot slowly opened its eyes. They turned out to be a startling red color. Bright red. That was a bit unusual; it sort of marred the 'bot's similarity to a living hylian, but then, perhaps that was the point. They were cool anyway. The man jumped a tad as the 'bot sat up, unfolding its legs to hang over the edge of the case. It stared blankly at the wall, talking to itself more than anyone else in a soft tenor voice.  
  
"Initializing system scan," it said. It didn't speak in a monotone, as the man had expected, but sounded rather like that recording on the telephone when 'your call could not be completed as dialed.' The man watched it in fascination. The 'bot was really very realistic, no metal or plastic visible at all.  
  
"System scan complete," it continued. "No viruses detected. No errors detected. System resources are optimal. Battery cells are fully charged. Calibrating motors." A gentle whirring sound accompanied a few twitches at the 'bot's joints. Then, they stopped. "Calibration complete. Loading matrices. Matrices loaded." The 'bot was still for a minute.  
  
'Is it broken?' the man wondered, and he waved his hand in front of its eyes. The 'bot's eyes rolled up and down with the movement. The man drew his hand back and the 'bot turned its head after the appendage to lock its gaze on the man's face. The empty stare was more than a little unsettling.  
  
"Uh...." said our articulate hero.  
  
"Sentient Hybrid-Circuit Android, Series LL, Model Number zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, two is online," replied the 'bot, who appeared to be the better conversationalist at the moment. "User identified. Username?"  
  
For an instant, the man felt as though he'd been asked the square root of seven. He blinked, still overwhelmed. ".............Holy shit."  
  
Robots tend to take everything that is said to them literally. Its face remained expressionless. "Username is: Holyshit. Is this correct? Yesslashno."  
  
The man couldn't help but chuckle to himself, it was either that or wet himself. "No."  
  
"Username?"  
  
He carefully kept his answer free from any unwanted syllables. "Link."  
  
"Username is: Link. Is this correct? Yesslashno."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Initializing facial bitmapping. Please hold completely still for approximately fifteen seconds. Ready? Yesslashno." The red eyes focused a bit more on Link's face.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Link tried to relax. "Yes."  
  
"Beginning capture. Mapping. Approximately ten seconds remaining. Approximately five seconds remaining. Capture complete. Thank you. Saving user information to file. One moment please..." The 'bot closed its eyes. Upon opening them, it was ready to fire off another question. "Unit default name is: Sheik. Change name? Yessla-"  
  
"No." As amazing as the 'bot was, Link was getting a little impatient with the 'yes/no' business.  
  
"Setup complete. Thank you. Saving information to file. Initializing matrices..." The 'bot's face gradually began to look less vacant. Finally, it did something unprecedented. It grinned broadly. "Hello, Master!" it chirped.  
  
"Yeah, uh.....Hi." 'How do you talk to a machine?' Link wondered. "My, but you're...perky."  
  
"Thank you," the 'bot said brightly, for lack of a better reply.   
  
After an awkward four seconds, Link had an epiphany, instigated mostly by the fact that the 'bot was no longer curled up on its side, but sitting up quite comfortably, modesty be damned. Link's face flushed. The 'bot noticed the profound change in Link's coloration.  
  
"Is something wrong?" it asked.  
  
Link politely averted his eyes, despite the fact that the 'bot didn't seem to care about, or even be aware of.....itself. Or rather, himself. "No, nothing's wrong, it's just that..." Link fumbled, "that...you're...kinda realistic."  
  
The 'bot smiled even more, if it was possible. "Thank you! I am anatomically correct."  
  
Link nodded, standing up. "Yes. Yes, you are. Very. Let's...get you some clothes..." He'd made it halfway to the bedroom when he realized he wasn't being followed. "Come on," he said patiently. The 'bot ponderously hoisted himself out of the case, and took a few hesitant steps. Assuming that the 'bot could catch up, Link went on into the bedroom and started searching through his dresser for clothing that might fit his new acquisition's shorter frame. He'd just decided on an old buttoned shirt and a pair of jeans when he nearly leaped out of his skin at the loud 'whump!' that resounded through the hallway.  
  
'I'm almost afraid to look...' Link peered through the doorway. The 'bot was sprawled on the floor, just getting up again. He spotted Link and grinned sheepishly.   
  
"Are you all right?" Link asked. He had no idea how durable a 'bot was; this one looked kind of fragile.   
  
The 'bot stood up again, waited until it was steady, and continued walking. "Yes. I lost my balance." He kept his eyes glued to the floor as he moved this time.  
  
'Goddesses, I think it's embarrassed...' Robots weren't supposed to have emotion. Not real ones, anyway. Either this one was a brilliant actor, or it was something much more sophisticated that any robot being built now. 'So how the hell did I wind up with it...?' He sighted along the hallway and saw a fold of carpet, one that had been there since he'd moved in. "Oh, the rug's loose in here. I'm sorry, I should have warned you." Link couldn't believe he'd just apologized to a computer. At least he wasn't to the point of talking to thin air...yet.  
  
"No, it's all right. I took no damage." The 'bot had reached Link by this time, taking the proffered garments and staring at them with a sort of deer-in-the-headlights look.  
  
'And now it's arguing.' Link knew he wasn't going to get over the shock this machine had caused anytime soon. He also knew he wasn't entirely comfortable with his current situation. The 'bot was just too much like a person for Link's peace of mind. "Is there a problem?" he asked, seeing a whole lot of staring and not enough dressing.  
  
The 'bot looked up at Link abashedly. "...There is no data for this task. I require instruction."  
  
And then there were the sudden bouts of artificiality to break the strain on Link's nerves. Of course a machine wouldn't know anything about dressing itself. Teaching such a thing to a person, however, that would be weird. "Okay, start with the jeans. Yes, those. The blue thing. See, the big part goes around your waist, and the long parts are for you legs." After ten minutes of such eloquent explanation and quite a few tumbles, the 'bot mastered the art of Pants. Next: Shirt. It had the same basic principal as Pants, but after a few times mis-buttoning it, the 'bot got a little frustrated.   
  
"Here, how about I do it this time?" Link offered, buttoning as he spoke. The 'bot watched, enraptured. "Now," Link said. "Can you, you know, shut down for a while, or something? It's three in the morning; I need to get some sleep." 'If I'll be able to get to sleep after this.'  
  
The 'bot's eyes unfocused, as though its gaze had turned inward. "I have a standby mode. Should I go into standby?" It fixed its eyes on Link, waiting for an answer.  
  
It took Link a minute to figure out what 'standby' was. "Uh......Yeah. Yeah, that'll work. You just...do your thing, then."  
  
The 'bot nodded, and, before Link could give further instruction, such as 'You're bunking on the sofa,' or something to that effect, Sheik had curled up on the bed, his eyes sliding shut and his breath slowing nearly to a standstill. Link stared bemusedly at the robot, considering sleeping on the sofa in the living room. That thought was quickly discarded; Link had a not-entirely-ungrounded theory that that particular sofa was a man-eater. The 'bot was comatose. It probably would have been just as happy on a cement floor. 'Only I don't have one of those...' Since this seemed to be a night for revelations, Link found himself having another one within five minutes. 'Wait...What am I being so squeamish about? It's a computer, for Din's sake! It's not like it's going to try anything.'   
  
Climbing into bed, Link suddenly found sleep lurking quite a bit closer than he had first thought. Soon, man and robot were both sleeping soundly. Aww, the sweet little lambs...  
Apt. 66, 4:30 A.M...  
  
In a dark, sufficiently ominous room, a weak flame flickers briefly, followed by a dim glow. The man takes a long drag off his cigarette in a vain attempt to calm his nerves. He glances at the clock, swears, stands and paces the room, puffing away like a chimney. If anyone was listening, they'd have heard muttering...  
  
"Where the hell are they?"  
Hyrtech Labs, 5:00 A.M...  
  
Dr. Zelda Harkinian was having a super morning. She was a week ahead of schedule on her testing, she was about to go down in history as a pioneer in engineering, and the doughnut shop had had those maple bars that she loved so very, very, very much. She whistled brightly as she punched in her keycode and ID number to unlock her lab, her 'bot, Impa, waiting quietly. The door slid open and Zelda nearly skipped in, bubbling over with chipperness. Impa, who was by design a rather mellow android, was vaguely disturbed by the good doctor's mood.   
  
"Impa, old girl, this is the day all our hard work pays off," Zelda said, blue eyes sparkling with a mirth that would have unnerved those who knew her. When Zelda was full of pep, it was best to seek shelter.  
  
"Yes, Zelda," Impa replied coolly. Inside her artificial brain, the dominant thought for the moment was: 'Maybe the espresso was a bad idea...'   
  
"In fact," Zelda continued, "I think we'll be able to get him up and running by this afternoon. Won't that be lovely?"  
  
"Very lovely, Zelda," the 'bot answered. And, to be truthful, the idea of seeing another android activated, one that Impa herself had helped build, was oddly appealing. She watched as Zelda fished a keycard out of her lab coat pocket. The woman waved it aloft triumphantly.  
  
"They called me mad! Mad! I'll show them all! Ahahahahahahaha! Haha!" Zelda's insane laughter collapsed into sputtering chuckles as she saw her 'bot jump back in surprise, regarding her in uneasy confusion. "It's a joke, Impa," she soothed, "I'll explain it later. Now, however..." She swiped the card through the lock on the side of a coffin-like box. With a soft 'bip-beep' the lid retracted, and Zelda and Impa stared in slack-jawed wonder. "Wha....huh?"  
  
The box was empty. It had been locked from the outside, the tenant was deactivated, and yet it appeared that he had literally gotten up and walked away. Impa furrowed her brow in consternation. Dr. Harkinian's day was shot to hell.  
  
Within minutes, the entire laboratory personnel had been notified of Zelda's trouble. Labs were searched, security tapes were watched, and guards were questioned. Aside from a few clipped AV wires and two guards with missing time, nothing was found. And then, of course, there were the camera crews. Rumors travel alarmingly quickly, and within half an hour of Zelda's discovery three news channels had congregated outside Hyrtech's front doors. Finally, the masses were appeased when Dr. Kotake Hielo, PhD., fought her way through the doors. The mob fell back a bit and quieted down for the venerable old astrophysicist.   
  
The old gerudo arranged her bifocals and coughed, and immediately she was bombarded by inane questions from all sides. With a stern glare, she motioned for silence. "We have prepared a statement, after which I will not take questions," she said. Crestfallen reporters crowded closer so as not to miss anything. "Last night, at approximately 12:00 A.M., a prototype android was stolen from a restricted laboratory. We are not sure what else was taken, if anything. The project's creator and her team assert that this android is not, I repeat, is not a threat in any way. The New Castletown Police Department is conducting a full investigation; we will find the android, and those responsible for its theft will be apprehended. I have no further comments at this time; good morning to you." The dismissal carried the sort of finality to it that only the elderly can achieve. Kotake slipped back inside out of the verbal hurricane. 


	2. In which our heroes perform mundane task...

Apt. 99, 9:30 A.M...  
  
"-losing to the Clocktown Wolfos 98 to 42. Forecast for the New Castletown area for today: partly cloudy, 30 percent chance of showers, and a high of 78. Top headlines: Seems a prototype android was stolen from one of Hyrtech's restricted laboratories sometime last night. Police are conducting an investigation into the robbery; nothing else was taken. Sounds like someone couldn't wait for the next model of prostibot. Hahaha... In other news, ambassador to the Republic of Gerudia Sasha Erstwhiles signed the first-"  
  
Link's hand flopped down on the snooze button almost of its own volition. Staring out the window, he waited for a few more synapses to fire before venturing out of bed. 'Goddesses, that was a seriously screwed up dream. I gotta' start getting more sleep, or something...'   
  
Clambering out of bed, Link straightened the covers, then stumbled off to the bathroom to shower. Ten minutes later, he could be seen walking down the hallway more or less blindfolded, as he was pulling a clean shirt on at the time. The garment in its proper place, the first thing Link's eyes beheld was the red-eyed blonde 'bot sprawled out on the sofa watching television.   
  
Sheik glanced up and grinned. "Good morning, Master!" he chirped, "Did you get adequate sleep?"  
  
'Correction: this is a seriously screwed up dream...' Link blinked. "Uh...yeah. Good morning." There was an awkward silence. "So..." Link said, "How...When did you get up?"  
  
"Oh," Sheik said, "Since my battery cells are still fully charged, I decided to come out of standby after approximately four hours and seventeen minutes. If you're hungry, I have made an omelet. It's on the kitchen table." Standing, he walked over to the kitchen (not exactly a long hike) with relative grace, looking over his shoulder expectantly to see if Link was following.   
  
Sitting across from him, Sheik beamed proudly. Link looked down at his plate. The 'omelet,' as it was termed, was a yellowish, jiggly lump flecked here and there with other green and pink...things. Link felt a little bit queasy. Seeing as he was being watched, however, Link bravely scooped up a bit of the...food with his fork, popped it into his mouth, and choked it down. He disguised a gag as a cough.  
  
"It's...it's different," Link said, his eyes watering. 'Nayru! What is this, poison?'  
  
The 'bot looked pleased. "Yes, considering the lack of standard ingredients I was forced to make a few substitutions. Is it still palatable?" He looked hopeful.  
  
Link scooted some of the eggs around on the plate, trying to delay the second bite as long as possible. "It's...yeah, it's all right. ...What, exactly, did you use in it?" He knew he probably wouldn't like the answer, but morbid curiosity compelled him to ask.  
  
"Well," Sheik started, chipper as ever, "as a substitute for cheese, I used pickle relish, and since it was the only meat product I could find, I put some olive loaf in it as well." He leaned his head to one side quizzically; Link was staring very intently at him. "What?"  
  
Link's stare wavered. He glanced down at the omelet, then back to Sheik. "I've never bought olive loaf."  
  
Sheik's smile wilted. "Oh. Oh dear. Then...what were the little green spots on-"  
Apt. 99, 9:53 A.M...  
  
Link emerged from the bathroom, pale and trembling. Sheik was introducing the remains of the omelet to the garbage disposal. He sighed mournfully.  
  
"I'm sorry, Master."  
  
Link opened the fridge and threw away the rest of the bologna. "No, it's not your fault. I was going to clean the fridge last weekend." The 'bot still looked rather glum. "You did okay, I mean, for a first attempt..." He looked at his servant 'bot for a minute. "You know what? Screw breakfast." He disappeared into the bedroom and came back with a pair of worn sneakers. "Here," he said, handing them to Sheik, "put these on." Sheik sat down on the sofa to unravel the mysteries of Shoes, while Link pulled a phone book out of one of the kitchen drawers and flipped through it. 'Aha, there we go...'  
  
"How's it coming?" Link asked, walking into the living room to find two untied shoes with a 'bot glowering down at them. "...Don't know how to tie shoes, either, huh?"   
  
Sheik nodded. "There is no data for this task."  
  
"Well, that's okay. Here, I'll show you." Link knelt down and tied one of the sneakers, slowly, so Sheik could see how it was done. "There. Get it?"  
  
"Yes." With the look of intense concentration that would be expected on the face of a neurosurgeon, Sheik eventually tied the other shoe.   
  
"Okay, good. That took me five years to learn and you've got it down in, what, thirty seconds." Link stood up. He took in the full effect of Sheik's outfit, which, on average, was three sizes too large for him. "You look...like a hobo. But that's okay! We'll fix that. Ready to go?" He moved toward the door, Sheik following automatically.  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Mall. I need groceries, and you need clothes of your own."  
  
"I am fully clothed." Sheik wore a puzzled expression.  
  
Link sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, but...Look, see how far you have to roll up the sleeves to see your hands? That's no good; they don't fit. Besides, the plaid, and the paint stains just...no. You need clothes." Sheik nodded assent and let Link lead him out into the hallway.  
Eastpark Mall, 11:45 A.M...  
  
"Okay, groceries are done, bank's done, I've eaten, you don't eat, so all that's left is to find something for you to wear...it should be somewhere on this floor..." Link paused to look around to see if he'd already passed the store he wanted.   
  
Sheik was overwhelmed. He'd gone from an apartment-sized world occupied by two people to a sea of faces in a building that seemed to go on forever. It was terrifying, and yet strangely exciting at the same time. Most of the people were hylians like Link, but now and then other races could be seen: a group of zoras, a goron, a peppering of gerudo here and there. And they all looked entirely different. Even the androids, with alternately deadpan and artificially cheery expressions, had variation.   
  
"Oh, it's down there." Link plunged into the crowd again, Sheik staying close.  
  
The Circuit, 12:03 A.M...  
  
The saleswoman eyed Sheik appraisingly. "Hmm...Yeah, okay. This way, please." With a caffeine-induced smile, she led the way through a maze of clothing racks. Stopping at one, she fished through it. "I think a six or an eight should be about right." Finding what she wanted, she pulled a garment off the rack. "What do you think?"  
  
Link turned white as a sheet; Sheik glared and stroked his chin in confusion, wondering which side was up. "That looks complicated..."  
  
Link repressed the urge to strangle the saleswoman. "When I said 'something to wear,' I meant something he could wear outside without getting arrested!"  
  
The saleswoman grinned nervously and stuffed the...article back onto the rack. "Oh! Of course, how stupid of me! That's Cremia's department; this way, please. Cremia!" She bustled off into another section of the store, hylian and 'bot in tow. A redhead seemed to materialize from the depths of the fabric jungle. The two women exchanged a few quiet words.  
  
"All right, then," Cremia said brightly, after the other had left, "let's see now; this is the 'bot, right? Of course it is." She looked Sheik up and down and sighed. "You poor thing; you look like you've been hit by a Goodwill truck." Link rolled his eyes and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Cremia ignored it. "Well...yes. I can work with this; I love a challenge."  
  
Some time later, the bewildered android found his arms full of clothing and Cremia ushered him into a small room to change. Link leaned against the wall, staring up at the fluorescent lights.  
  
"That's an awesome 'bot; where'd you get him?"  
  
Link's heart skipped. 'What can I tell her? That he was just THERE when I came home?' Deciding that innocent lies were by far preferable to suspicious truths, Link grinned feebly. "Inheritance. Some aunt I've never met."  
  
Cremia smiled. "Wow, that's lucky!" Link shrugged. "Is he one of those new ones? He's really well-programmed."  
  
'Why is she asking so many damn questions?!' "I don't know. He had a really low serial number."  
  
"Ooh! I'll bet he is! And the first shipment of those were all reserved way in advance; there's, like, a seven-month waiting list."  
  
"Huh..."   
  
"Do you like him?"  
  
Link ran a hand through his hair. "Sure, he's okay. He's only been on for about a day."  
  
Cremia sighed wistfully. "I wish I had one. They're way too expensive right now, though. I don't have fifty k. to spare."  
  
Link's eyes would have bugged out of his head if that hadn't been physically impossible. 'Okay, time to change the subject.' He knocked softly on the door. "Sheik, you okay?"   
  
"I am nearly finished. Don't come in," came the muffled reply. Cremia giggled at the realism. A few seconds later, the 'bot emerged.   
  
"Oh, good, it fits." Cremia tugged a bit at the fabric to see that it hung correctly. Sheik was complacently still, letting the woman check seams and fastenings. The outfit was several pieces that sealed together cleverly to look like one garment, and was a dark bluish-purple color with patches of lighter purple and white lines that drew the eye upward.  
  
Link couldn't quite decide whether he liked it or not. It was nice-looking and all, but... "Isn't it a little...form-fitting?"  
  
Cremia didn't bother to look up. No doubt she'd heard that very question several dozen times already. "Android clothing generally is. They have standardized body sizes, and it saves money on fabric. Since this one fits, he won't have to try on any others if you don't want to." Link conceded the point that 'bots probably weren't really self-conscious about their appearance.  
  
As it turned out, android clothing was generally pretty inexpensive as well, so Link coughed up the money for five sets of clothes in standard-small-frame size 6.   
Link's slightly-used 4673 Transcom Quasar, 1:15 P.M...  
  
"Well, gee, isn't this delightful. Goddesses, we'll be here for a bloody hour..." Link grumbled to no one in particular. Lunch hour traffic was always ridiculous in this part of town. Sheik stared out the window, unfazed. What was there for him to be impatient about? They both jumped when a hoverbike thundered over the roof of the car, nearly slamming down onto the hood. Sheik uttered a cry of alarm and Link swore loudly. "Goddessesdamn it! Where's a cop when you need one? Did you see that; he could have killed someone! Aagh..." The cars inched forward a few yards. The traffic came to a rolling halt again; Link's car idling quietly.  
  
Overhead, a few copters thrummed past, creating little eddies of breeze on the ground below. Sheik glanced up at them. Link followed his gaze.  
  
"Lucky bastards. Too bad hovers can't go that high... Hey, look, it looks like it's letting up a little bit up here." The Quasar lurched forward, as though shocked by having to move suddenly.  
Civcopter ID#34-09-37, 1:18 P.M...  
  
A blonde young man in a suit was looking thoughtful. Then, with a small smile, he flicked on the copter's phone and dialed. After one and a half rings, a man's tired, cranky visage graced the phone screen.  
  
"Good afternoon, Mr. Wilkins. Any progress?" the blonde queried pleasantly.  
  
The addressee snorted in a manner that suggested an answer in the negative. "I hope you're shittin' me, Callaghan. Your guys never showed up! I stayed up all night waiting."  
  
The blonde's face fell into a frown. "Oh? I wasn't informed of that. I'll see to it. Good day." He reached forward and hung up, then leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to calm his nerves. He never liked to appear flustered. Making a mental note to make an appointment with 'his guys,' he turned to watch the crawling traffic below.   
Apt. 99, 2:30 P.M...  
  
"Okay; you got all that?"  
  
Sheik nodded. "Perishables in the refrigerator, nonperishables in the cupboards."  
  
"Good." Link gave Sheik a tentative brotherly-clap-on-the-shoulder. "Thanks, Sheik."   
  
The android smiled. "You're welcome, Master; that is my function."  
  
Link left to take a bit of a nap before going to work, leaving Sheik alone with the groceries. He took everything out of the bags, setting them on the counter and sorting through them. Hard, cold things belonged in the freezer; that was that little door above the big one on the fridge... Things containing liquids and cool things went in the fridge, plant and animal material in the lower drawers... Dry material went in the cupboards, separated into cans and boxes... Done. "Six minutes, 37 seconds..." Sheik mused softly.  
  
The apartment was already fairly clean, he had received no further instruction; there didn't seem to be anything for Sheik to do. Usually, 'bots like to stand in one place and stare at the walls or go into standby in their free time; Sheik flopped down on the sofa and turned on the television.   
North of Kakariko City, 39ft. underground, 3:00 P.M...  
  
The ruins of the Shadow Temple lie in absolute darkness, the dripping of water the only sound or movement discernable. An entity has ensconced itself deep within the moldering stone and rot, peacefully slumbering...  
The Hailey Building, 68th floor, 4:45 P.M...  
  
Sakon and Bob were shown into a large office. Instead of sitting behind the expansive desk, their employer was standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows, studying the New Castletown skyline and sipping a glass of brandy. He didn't turn around as he addressed his unfortunate odd-job men.  
  
"If your assigned task was too complicated for your limited minds, you should have said something. Arrangements could have been made." There was no anger in Mr. Callaghan's voice. This was normal, and yet it felt very foreboding today. Sakon shifted his weight uncomfortably. "You DID secure the android?"  
  
Bob was on the verge of an indignant reply when he was reminded that silence was a virtue by a rough jab in the ribs. "Yes, sir," Sakon stammered, "Found him and took him to Rowanoake Apt. 99 on Keaton Street, just like he said, but the bastard wasn't there." Bob nodded judiciously at Sakon's addition.   
  
Mr. Callaghan heaved a sigh of one who carries the weight of a very heavy world on his shoulders. He closed his eyes and hooked back half his brandy. "Apartment 99?"  
  
"Yeah," Sakon said, producing the little scrap of paper. "Wrote it down, so's we wouldn't forget. You always say we got minds like unto sieves..." He smiled hopefully.  
  
Callaghan rubbed his temples with his free hand. "Try turning the paper upside down."  
  
Sakon did this, and marveled at the results. "...............Bloody hell!"  
  
Bob peered at the paper. "See? I told you it wasn't 99..."  
  
Sakon alone perceived the danger they were in. He jumped to reconcile himself. "Oh, but, we can get it back, sir; it's nothing, right?" he laughed nervously, "A few well-placed shocks and baddabing, everything's bitchin', eh?"  
  
The young man shook his head. "I think it's time I took a different approach, don't you? I have been very lenient thus far." The hearts of his employees fell to their feet.   
  
"You son of a bitch; you can't do that to us!" Bob roared, Sakon unable to quiet him. The big man quivered with rage; he leapt forward and was immediately tackled and tranquilized by two security guards. Sakon whimpered pitifully.  
  
"Take Mr. Stitch and Mr. Riley to Basement Five and make them comfortable," Mr. Callaghan said blandly, "I'll attend to them myself shortly."  
  
The unhappy Bob was dragged away while Sakon was led out, trembling, by another guard. The blonde man finished his drink, taking a deep, calming breath. Obviously, he needed more competent help in getting what he was after. "Sylvia!"  
  
A mousy little secretary poked her head in the door. "Yes, sir?"  
  
"Forward any urgent calls to me, I'm flying to Kakariko City." Mr. Callaghan pulled a small phone from his pocket and alerted his pilot to his pending departure.   
  
The secretary nodded. "Yes, sir."   
Keaton St. Pub, 10:00 P.M...  
  
"So tell me," Kaylee said, over a can of beer, "if you're so flippin' poor, how'd you wind up with a 'bot that's nicer than the damn P.M.'s? You got something goin' on the side that we don't want to know about?"  
  
Link winked at the slightly tanked female zora. "Of course. I'm a Spyra dealer, didn't you know that?"  
  
Reggie hooked back her third shot of vodka for the night. "How'd you really get him? ...Doru, why don't you call it quits? You look like you're going to pass out," she commented in a hoarse, suspiciously masculine voice.  
  
The goron swayed gently and hooked back the third shot of vodka. He was bound and determined to beat Reggie at shots once if it killed him. "I'd tell you to go bonk yourself, Reggie, but it calls too many unpleasant images to mind."   
  
Link set two more shot glasses down on the counter. "Reggie, you're an alcoholic."  
  
"I know." The brunette grinned and hooked back number four. The goron followed suit, made a worrying face, and toppled onto the floor with a mighty thud that shook the building. Reggie shook her head and sighed. "What a featherweight. Now," she said, "you were telling us about your 'bot?" She raised one eyebrow and rested her face in her hands. "How'd you get it?"  
  
Link cleared his throat and busied himself mixing drinks for other patrons. "He was an inheritance. There really wasn't a lot of information with him; no return address, nothing." Sheik rested an empty tray on the counter, letting Link set a few mugs and glasses on it before picking it up and disappearing into the mess of tables again. "I guess he's one of those new ones, or something. Aren't they supposed to be pretty realistic?"  
  
Reggie shook her head. "I've looked over some of Logi-vo's stuff, their new models just have more detailed personality programming, and a few more joints." She pointed to the form of Sheik, who was squeezing between two tables, holding the full tray above his head with one hand as he tried not to bump anyone. "That thing acts like it's thinking, Link. And look at that; any other 'bot I've seen would have tipped over by now."  
  
Link shrugged. "So he has better gyroscopes than most; maybe he was privately built, or something. He had a serial number and a model."  
  
"What model was it?" Apparently, Reggie was the only one of the group who was lucid enough to follow the conversation.  
  
'Goddesses, I knew she'd want details...' Link thought for a moment. "When he was booting up, he said he was an S.H.C.A., I think."  
  
Reggie closed her eyes for a moment. "Hmm...I can't remember the model name of the new 'bots...wait... Oh, yeah. It was Kestrel." She stacked her shot glasses. "Well, maybe he is a private 'bot."  
North of Kakariko City, 1:30 A.M...  
  
Mr. Callaghan had left his entourage in town with the assurance that he would be back sometime tomorrow. He climbed into the hills behind the city until he found what he was looking for: a small twinge in the back of his mind that told him his old 'associate' was near. Making sure he couldn't be seen, Mr. Callaghan sighed in exasperation and melted into a puddle of black, seeping into the ground.   
Link's Quasar, Rowanoake Parking Garage level two, 2:15 A.M...  
  
"Master?"  
  
"Yeah?" Link turned off the ignition, the car's hover generators cut out instantly and the car dropped to the ground with a resounding clang. "...You know, it'd be nice to be able to park this thing without sustaining some kind of head injury..." He rubbed his head where it had collided with the ceiling in their sudden descent. "Now, what?" It wasn't often that a 'bot initiated a conversation.  
  
Sheik looked at his hands intently for a minute, as though trying to work out what to say. "Master, what is a brass nail? I know the literal definition, but it seems to have further meaning."  
  
Link stared at the 'bot for a long moment. How to explain... "Brass nail...Well..." he ran a hand through his hair and sighed, "Do you know what a prostitute is?"  
  
"Yes." Sheik frowned. "Oh..." Link went to open his door, when an even more awkward question was voiced. "And what is an ion, besides an electrically charged atom?"  
  
Link sighed again and leaned back. 'How do I explain this stuff to someone who doesn't even...?' "Well...um...Okay, uh...Okay, there's covalent, and there's ionic, right?" Sheik raised an eyebrow. "And...covalent is sort of slang for...someone who's straight, and ionic means someone who's bent."  
  
Sheik looked utterly lost. "But all people bend to some degree."  
  
Link rolled his eyes and covered his face with his hands. "That was my fault; start over. Do you know what heterosexual means?" Sheik nodded. "That's what covalent means. So...you can probably work out ionic, right?" Link said, with a small note of pleading.  
  
Sheik glared down at the floor. "And are these terms derogatory?"  
  
Link nodded hesitantly, and was struck by a small bolt of insight. "They weren't calling you those things, were they?"  
  
Sheik glanced sidelong, voice lowered. "Many of them. ...They are derogatory?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Sheik nodded again, then smiled softly, opening his door and climbing out. "Good. I was worried that I was malfunctioning."  
  
Link climbed out and locked the doors. "Why?"  
  
Sheik's grin became a bit mischievous. "I experienced a very strong urge to cause them physical damage. I did not show this sentiment outwardly, however." He continued walking, having no more to say.  
  
Link was thunderstruck. 'He took offence at that? 'Bots don't even have sexualities...' "Um...That's...good, then. Don't worry about it too much, Sheik. Most of the people there are moronic drunks. You know you're not a prostibot." Sheik nodded silently.  
  
All in all, it had been an extremely educational first day.  
North of Kakariko City, 39ft. underground, 3:30 A.M...  
  
In the ruins of the Shadow Temple, the figure of Mr. Callaghan coalesced, though there was no light by which to see it. With his obviously not-ordinary eyes, he peered around in the gloom, sighed, and started walking through the rubble.   
Apt. 99, 4:07 A.M...  
  
Inhaling a lock of hair in his sleep, Link started awake, coughing a spluttering. As he was dozing off again, he noticed an unusual weight on his waist, and heard the soft purr of a small generator. He also found the source of the menacing hair. Sheik was snuggled against the hylian's chest, deep in...standby. 'For the love of Farore...' Carefully, Link lifted Sheik's arm from his waist and set it down at the 'bot's side. 'How heavy can he be?' Bracing his hands against the 'bot's chest and legs, Link shoved...  
  
And found himself on the floor. "Ow. Damnit..."  
  
"Master?" A worried face appeared over the edge of the bed, the weak light from the windows reflecting off red irises. "Are you undamaged?" Extending a hand, Sheik helped Link up and back into bed. The hylian sat with a severe expression on his face. The 'bot fidgeted. "Is something wrong, Master?"  
  
"Well, yeah," Link said, not at his most patient and understanding at four o'clock. "You seem to be on my side." This earned him a confused, vacant look. He sighed. "You're too close to me."  
  
Sheik sounded puzzled, if not a tad embarrassed. "I thought physical closeness was a comforting gesture..." He sighed softly. "Am I mistaken?"  
  
'Remain calm; mustn't strangle the android...' "Well, it's not that... Look, just because some drunks think you're ionic doesn't mean you have to act the part," he snapped. The 'bot looked hurt. Link sighed. 'Goddesses, listen to me. He doesn't know any better...' "Just...move back to your own side, all right?"  
  
The 'bot complied, tangling his extension cord around his legs in the process. "I apologize, Master. Thank you for correcting my behavior." That said, he curled up on 'his side' and went back into standby.  
  
Reminding himself that 'bots didn't genuinely have feelings to hurt, Link vainly tried to make himself comfortable again. 


	3. The Sheikan Genesis, just for kicks

...Excerpt from an unnamed sheikan text (actually, it was more of a series of clay tablets with little pictures chiseled on them, but...)...  
  
Before the beginning, there was the one who came Before. From this one came the many, the great Giants, and they were uncountable and mighty. The many split from the one and went off through the vastness alone and in groups, singing in joy as they went.   
  
The Giants were as to the one as a grain of sand is to the whole of the earth. They could rest a galaxy on the tip of a finger, and become smaller than the smallest piece of a grain of sand. As they sang and moved through the vastness, orbs and clouds and unknown creatures came into being and took up the songs, and the Giants and creation were glad...  
  
...Over years innumerable, four Giants drew very far away from the others and from the one. In a quiet, empty place they dwelt and created many things to give life to the vastness. The Giants were a kym* of four.  
  
The Giants have no names but those which we choose to give them. Ay was one, swift and full of cleverness and very beautiful. Ag was another, playful and passionate and fierce. Raj was gentle, and of the four Giants most loved the creations they formed from themselves. Var was the last, strong but kind in nature. These four Giants made a kym of themselves, and for time immeasurable they stayed in that part of the vastness, and they were the only Giants there, and the place was made joyful with their creations...   
  
...There was a time when Raj was moving through the vastness, singing with the creations and playing amongst them. Four creations were new, and when Raj caught sight of them, ih** laughed for joy and gathered them into ih's arms and went home quickly to show the new creations to the other Giants, for no creations like these had Raj ever seen before.  
  
Of the four Giants, only Ay was cool toward the four creations. All the others were delighted by these new beings, dancing and singing and speaking with them, and delighting at their answers. Only Ay was cool toward them, and kept distance between ihself and the creations and spoke to them but little...  
  
...For a long time, the four creations moved with the four Giants and were happy, and as they sang with the Giants and danced with them, they grew in strength and understanding; they saw the things that the Giants created and cared for, and they saw that this was good, though their thoughts were different from those of the Giants. After a time, these four creations grew impatient with their weakness and made creations themselves. These creations of creations were small and frail, but they were beautiful, and the four creations were glad of what they had made.   
  
The four creations gathered up their small works and, filled with joy, went and showed them to the Giants. Ay said nothing, but shifted in discomfort at what the creations had done, for ih had a deeper understanding and a farther foresight that the other Giants. The other three were surprised and joyful at the work of their creations...   
  
...The four creations did not sing to the things they made, nor did they dance or play with them. When Raj and Ag and Var did these things, the small, frail creations of the creations grew greater and more wonderful, taking strength from the Giants. The four creations were pleased to see the things they made flourish, and went off again to make something else.  
  
Now, as the four creations went along, they spoke, for, unlike the Giants, they spoke more than they sang. As they talked of what they would next make, one of the four was loudest, for ih had a passionate spirit.   
  
"Those that we first made were beautiful, but they were weak. Now we must make something strong." The other creations agreed with this, as it was obvious. "When we brought our creations to the Giants, we were lavished with praise, but the Giants saw the weakness of our work and changed them. They are our works no longer." The others agreed, taking up the thought themselves.   
  
Another, who was thoughtful, began to speak. "That which we make now, we must keep secret." The others agreed.  
  
Another, who held love for the Giants, said, "We will not keep our creations from the Giants forever. We will work on that which we make until they will find no weakness in it, and then they will be shown that we are as strong and wise as they. They will be happy with us."  
  
...The fourth said nothing, but began work at once, and the others joined ih. They worked long on these new creations in secret, but try as they might, they could not make their creations strong. As time went on, the four worked longer and longer and gave more attention to their ailing works, but the things only weakened and faltered further. This frustrated the four, and they pondered why this failure was.  
  
The fourth, who before had not spoken overmuch, now spoke. "When the Giants changed our first creations, they flourished. The Giants have something that we do not; that is what makes their creations strong."   
  
The others found sense in this, and the thoughtful one said, "Then we must find a Giant and ask ih for that which makes the creations live."  
  
...The four left their struggling creations behind, and went in search of a Giant. The first they found was Ay, but ih fled from them as they approached. The second they found was Ag. The four asked for that which would make creations live, but Ag could not understand what it was that they wanted. The four went away unhappy. The next they found was Var, and they asked for that which would make creations live, but Var, too, was confused by their request, and the four went away again...   
  
...Finally, the four happened upon Raj, and they knew of a way to explain their wants to ih. Calling Raj, they led the Giant to the place where they had hidden their sick creations. Raj looked upon their weakness and sorrow, and stopped ih's singing, and spoke, "These have languished long. Why did you not bring them to us? We would gladly have strengthened them for you." And Raj was puzzled, for why would the four let their creations suffer so?  
  
The one who loved the Giants answered, "When you make our creations strong, you add to them and change them, and they are not our creations anymore. We ask you to give us that which makes your creations flourish, so that ours may be the same."  
  
Raj was quiet for a little as ih thought about the four's request. Then, Raj said, "What you ask for is great indeed. I cannot give you such a thing."  
  
The four had never been refused, and were frustrated with Raj. "Why will you not help us?" asked the passionate one, "Why must we be kept weak and barren while you and your kym are strong?"  
  
Raj did not answer, but only strengthened the four's miserable creations and went ih's way. The passionate one was angry, and glared upon the changed creations. The others were dismayed and sorrowful that they would never themselves create works such as those of the Giants. The passionate one, enraged by Raj's answer, fell upon one of the strengthened creations, ripping at it and ravaging it until ih consumed it. The others were shocked at their companion's behavior, for they had never seen destruction. They saw that the passionate one was made stronger by the creation ih had consumed, and the passionate one saw and felt this, and, elated, fell upon another one of the young creations with a will...   
  
...The one who loved the Giants was frightened by this. "What have the little ones done that ih should devour them?"  
  
The other two, however, saw only that the passionate one grew stronger, and they joined her. After a while of this, the one who loved the Giants saw how weak ih remained as ih's friends grew in power, and joined them, though with a heavy heart...   
  
...When the creations of the four were destroyed, the four turned to creations of the Giants, and as they became mightier, they brought down greater and grander creations, and many strange and wonderful things passed away by their hands. The thoughtful one understood how great had become their power and their dreadfulness, and a thought came to ih. "We grow as great and terrible as the Giants themselves. Now we shall be as they are."  
  
...The four formed a kym of themselves, and changed themselves, so that they might be more awesome to behold. Three of the four made themselves shining and bright with light, and made themselves different from the other one. They called themselves Goddesses, and females are made in their image. The fourth became the God, and males are made in his image. His form he made darker and subtler than those of the Goddesses. The Goddesses went on to name themselves, so that they would be known apart from all the rest of creation. The passionate Goddess took the name Din, the thoughtful Goddess took the name Nayru, the lover of the Giants took the name Farore. The God took a name to himself, but he never spoke it aloud, for he was ashamed of it, and so he is known by whatever name we give him...  
  
...The Gods now tried to create as the Giants did, but were sorely disappointed. Their creations were as sickly and pitiful as they ever were, and at last the Gods devoured them again. They spoke and debated as to why this was, and Nayru said, "As powerful as we become, we have not acquired that thing which the creations need to prosper. Only the Giants have that; we must ask again for it."  
  
Din agreed, and spoke out, "Yes, and the Giants will see that we are wise and able to create, and will give us what we seek. But we asked the last time, and were turned down. Are we still weak newborns, playing about the Giants' feet? I will go to the Giants and demand that we are given what we lack!" The other Gods were stirred by this, and Din led them in searching for the Giants...  
  
Now, Raj had come to an empty part of the vastness, in order to fill it and give ih's creations room. The Gods watched the Giant dancing from a distance, and looked upon the wonderful things ih was creating with malice and envy, for their thoughts had changed and soured over their long years, and their hearts had hardened. After a time, Raj paused to rest and watch ih's new creations, and was so enraptured by them that the Gods were at ih's feet before ih noticed their presence. Now Raj saw the four, and saw that they were changed and were grown in strength and beauty, and greeted them warmly. "Ah, dear little ones, you've returned," Raj gathered them into ih's arms and embraced them***, "You have been away long and changed much." Raj's heart swelled, for ih was full of love for creations; of the Giants, ih was fondest of the Gods.  
  
Din pulled herself away from Raj, and all but Farore followed after her. Raj was puzzled, for none had ever shown ih contempt before.   
  
Din spoke. "Indeed, we have lived on our own without the Giants' aid for some time. See how we have grown?" And she bade Raj look upon her blazing form, "We have improved ourselves. We are strong and terrible and have learned wisdom."  
  
Raj acceded this, and reached out to Din, but she moved aside. Raj spoke. "Truly, you have grown much since you left, dear little ones."  
  
Nayru began speaking, softly at first, but gaining volume as her nervousness subsided. "We are your dear little ones no longer. We have changed ourselves. We are ours. We are Named. I am Nayru."  
  
Din spoke, boldly, "I am Din."  
  
The god was upset. "I am Named, but that name is to be known by none but me."  
  
Raj was confused, and ih's heart sank within ih, for Names separate, and the four creations were now distant from ih. Raj looked upon Farore, who had remained in ih's arms. "And you, dear little one?"  
  
Farore was saddened, for she perceived that Raj was pained. "I am Farore," she answered in a soft voice.  
  
Raj sat in silence for a long while, unable to understand the Names of the Gods. Din grew impatient.  
  
"Mighty as we have become," Din said, making Raj pay attention to her, "mighty even to rival you and your kym, we are still unable to make our creations strong. We ourselves are strong enough to create great things, like unto those you are making. Greater. We ask again for that which makes creations thrive."  
  
Nayru spoke, to soften the words of her companion. "In granting us this, dear one, you do much good, for there will be two kyms to create instead of one. Four will double into eight, and the vastness can be full of bright and wondrous things."  
  
Raj was sad at their repeated request, for ih could not grant it. "Again you ask for this, and again I must say no. I cannot give such a thing to you."  
  
The Gods were frustrated at this, and Din was angered. Raj did not notice this. Raj wanted to return to ih's creations, and asked the Gods to stay, for they seemed agitated. "Come," Raj said, holding out ih's hands, "Come and dance with me, as you used to, dear little ones. Let us be done with talking for a while."  
  
Nayru spoke, full of disdain. "We have our own ways. We do not dance any longer."   
  
...Raj was put off by this, and Din moved behind ih so that Raj was fenced in. Farore moved away from Raj and spoke. "Please, dear one, we have sought for so long to be as you are; please give us what will make us so." Raj again refused...  
  
...At last, Din was enraged. Casting herself upon one of Raj's new creations, she tore and burned and bore down upon it until it failed and she devoured it. Raj looked on in horror as the creation was cut down by Din, and Raj bore witness to cruelty and suffering, the first of the Giants to do so. At last, the creation was undone, and the last tiny remnant of it fled back to Raj and rejoined ih, and Death came into being...  
  
...And in her rage, Din shocked even herself. Spying the remnant of the destroyed creation rejoining with Raj, she pursued it, determined to erase even the last scrap of Raj's work, and unwittingly attacked Raj ihself. And Raj was intensely confused and horrified...  
  
...Raj escaped Din and fled, calling to the other Giants for aid. And Din, maddened by anger and tasting that which makes the creations live, chased after ih, and caught a tail of Raj to slow the Giant...  
  
...Following behind their companion, the Gods drew near, and that which makes creations live rained down upon them, for Din had torn Raj badly, and in Raj's thrashing the substance was thrown in sprays...  
  
...And the Gods were maddened by this, and fell upon the body of Raj themselves. There was a great tumult from the creations that were near, for now Fear and Hate, Lust and Greed had come into being, and the creations set up a terrible noise as they witnessed their creator crying out in anguish in ih's struggles against the Gods. Many of the creations fell upon the Gods in droves, hissing and glittering in anger, but they were soon devoured by the Gods, and Sacrifice and Duty came into being. Strengthened in their fury, the Gods by degrees overpowered Raj, and in desperation Raj screamed for ih's kym...   
  
...And thus the Desecration of Raj took place, not the first act of violence, but the most horrible. This was the Gods' greatest sin...  
  
...Hearing the cries of Raj, the Giants, each wandering alone, sped to the aid of their companion, and greatly bewildered were they, for nothing like this had ever occurred, and never had they heard such a sound as the scream of Raj...  
  
...The first Giant to find the Gods' and Raj was Var, though ih was too late to be of use. By now, the blood-madness and fury had left the Gods, and they sat around the body of Raj, disbelieving what they had done, and pondering what they would do, now that Raj was broken and the Gods were strengthened by ih's own lifeblood. Var looked upon the Gods, much changed since their creation, and upon the body of Raj, still and blighted, and ih did not comprehend what had taken place...  
  
...Over time, as Var listened to the mournful singing of the creations and felt the taint in the void, ih learned and understood what had taken place. Var looked upon the form of Raj, and cradled Raj in ih's arms and called and sang to ih's companion. For all Giants move constantly, and no Giant hears song without singing in turn, but Raj lay still and cold, and in time Var understood this also, and the knowledge of Death and Fear and all the other new creations came into ih's heart, and ih's heart was broken, and Var embraced the form of Raj and wept over it, and sang to it in grief...  
  
...This is why we sing the death songs...  
  
...Ag was the next Giant to arrive, and ih looked upon the form of Raj in Var's arms, and heard Var's weeping. And Ag also saw the Gods, changed and grown in strength, and he listened to the lamenting of the creations and understood, for Ag's thoughts moved more quickly than those of Var, for the thoughts were smaller. And Ag's spirit flared in sadness and anger for what the Gods had done. But for all Ag's fierceness, ih did not yet understand war, and so ih, too, went to the side of Raj, though ih could not keep calm in ih's frustration, and ih flitted and spun about Raj and Var...  
  
...And the Gods watched this, especially Nayru, who was learning swiftly of many things, and she saw how the Giants were distracted and stricken, and she thought...  
  
...The last Giant to arrive was Ay. Though Ay was the swiftest Giant in form and thought, ih was farthest by far from Raj, and heard not ih's scream but the screams of the creations. Ay saw the form of Raj, still wearing a look of pain, and Var, distraught and weeping, and Ag, raving and furious, and also the Gods, and Ay understood at once that her misgiving had not been idle, and that an unthinkable crime had come to pass. And ih could have avenged ih's companion, for ih was cunning to match the Gods, but this was not to be. Guilt came into being, and Ay took blame for Raj's desecration upon ihself, for ih had known danger and had not given warning to ih's companions...  
  
...And so the kym of the Giants gathered near the form of Raj, Ay pacing about them and sighing in ih's sorrow. And Nayru saw this and understood what the Gods would now do.  
  
She spoke, "See what we have done, my companions. We are stronger than the Giants; we have proved this by slaying Raj, and the others will be weaker still, for they are stupid and slow."  
  
Farore and the god were silent, staying near each other. Din drew close to Nayru and spoke, "Indeed, the time of the Giants here is ended. Let a new kym arise to create and rule."  
  
The god was very quiet, for nothing had been said of ruling before, and indeed, the Gods themselves did not fully understand what this meant. Farore gathered her courage and spoke, "Let us not destroy the Giants, for they were our makers, and they are beautiful. We have shown that we are mightier than they, let us instead fashion them into a new work, greater than theirs. Let us show mercy to the Giants for our own glory." The god was silent, but smiled slightly, for he remembered that the goddess Farore loved the Giants, and would not see them devoured...  
  
...And so the Gods agreed to the plan of the Goddesses, and the three remaining Giants were broken and trapped, for they were too sorrowful to flee, and the Gods fashioned them into a new creation, one greater and grander than the Gods could have designed...  
  
...And so the world was made...  
  
##  
  
* A "kym" is an ancient sheikan marital unit. Being largely polyamorous, sheikan marriages usually consisted of three to five individuals, all setting up a household together. This arrangement had a lot of advantages for a species in which half the population was sterile. Like, for instance, guaranteed free babysitting nearly every night of the week, a more substantial income while still having someone home to look after the house and children, and, with the extra dependants, a pretty nice tax break as well.  
  
** In ancient sheikan, the syllable "ih" was sometimes used as a gender-neutral, respectful pronoun. It was considered improper to refer to one's elders/betters as "he" or "she." Don't ask why this is, it just is. And with the Giants supposedly being genderless beings, this was a convenient word to use with reference to them. After all, why wouldn't you pay your dues to the entities that your world is made of? :)  
  
*** This wasn't really very difficult. In fact, Raj still had quite a few arms to spare.  
  
Whee! Yay for footnotes! Bwahahaha! I hope you had fun scrolling up and down, and up and down... This dinky little thing took forever, and it's fairly stupid, but it's good background for the rest of the story, and I thought this was as good a way as any to convey it. The story IS supposed to be on the lighter side, but really, how many cheerful Genesis stories have you read? Everything's gloom and pompous deities and fruit and violent dismemberment/castration. Don't worry, though, Raj isn't dead, it's just...taking a nap. Without breathing. Or moving. ^^; Confused? Good! 


	4. I'll make you an offer you can't refuse

Just a quick note! Because I always forget the important ones! First off, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. I really appreciate the input I've been getting. Especially in pointing out inconsistencies (Aries28 knows who she is...*cough*). I've been proofreading very carefully. ;) Now, for those of you scratching your heads about Sheik (delightful little weirdo that he is), no, he isn't gay. Anatomically correct he may be, but robots don't need to...engage in such activities. His relationship with Link is master/servant. You know, like a dog, or something. He just hasn't figured out all the little social rules yet. You also might be wondering: "Okay, so Link has a mentally retarded robot, Zelda's a scientist, and there's a creepy melting guy who's generally being an ass. IS there a plot to this story?" The answer is: yes. It's just a bit...different. I'm going to have to be careful, or I'll confuse myself. Feel free to bug me if anything makes no damn sense.  
  
##  
  
Ruins of the Shadow Temple, 4:00 A.M...  
  
Callaghan was not happy. In fact, one might go so far as to say that he was pissed. For one thing, his suit was taking a terminal beating, what with all this clambering through unstable rubble, and it was unpleasantly damp in here, and his associate either wasn't paying attention and hadn't noticed him, or the little prick was letting Callaghan wander around looking for him...  
  
Flicking a sort of...soft, squishy thing off of his sleeve, Callaghan stopped to regain his bearings and ticked off all the creative and somewhat graphic ways in which he could torment his old associate once he found him. He wasn't very fond of the monster by any stretch of the imagination, but considering the circumstances, Callaghan had nowhere else to turn for help...  
  
Sighing and muttering under his breath, the pale man continued his search.  
  
Apt. 99, 5:00 A.M...  
  
Link had, by this time, gotten back to sleep. He was dreaming about three-headed sheep. One of the sheep had the head of the Prime Minister. Golf was also involved. Oh well, dreams aren't supposed to make sense...  
  
Still wound up in his extension cord, Sheik was dreaming. This was worth mentioning, mostly since 'bots don't normally dream at all. It was really a rather pleasant dream; psychiatrists around the country would wet their pants at the complex symbolism and layers of meaning of this dream, however. And, knowing psychiatrists, it would all probably have something to do with Sheik's deep-seated sexual anxieties and his relationship with his parents, or a freakish mixture of both. However, they would all be wrong, because the dream was actually very literal...  
  
Hyrtech Labs, 6:15 A.M...  
  
Dr. Harkinian slumped in her office chair, staring forlornly at her coffee mug (which, incidentally, had a picture of a cute little kitty on it). A few skin cells had been found on the edge of the missing 'bot's storage box, but the DNA testing results wouldn't be available for another week or so, and even then, it wouldn't do anyone much good if there was nothing to compare the DNA with. And, though the investigators were turning the lab upside-down and working around the clock, they weren't finding much by way of leads. On top of that, she was supposed to have a 'bot ready for exposition today. Impa would have to do for now; she had hoped to use the new 'bot, but she was really beginning to doubt that she would ever see it again. With that, seven years of work was unceremoniously flushed down the drain. Zelda sighed and sipped the scalding coffee. After all this was over, she was taking a long vacation...  
  
Apt. 99, 9:40 A.M...  
  
Link stumbled over one of his shoes. It had seemed like a very long night, and the dream about the Prime Minister and a flock of three-headed sheep attacking him with golf clubs was doing nothing to improve his lucidity. He opened one of his dresser drawers and pulled out a shirt that didn't look especially tatty. He didn't feel up to dressing to kill today. In fact, he didn't feel up to dressing even to mildly injure.   
  
While Link was occupied with finding his other shoe, Sheik was coming out of standby. Noting with mild satisfaction that he was fully charged, the 'bot pulled the tiny plug of his extension cord out of the wall outlet. Link glanced over in time to see the red cord reel itself back in, disappearing into places unknown through a little slot in Sheik's upper thigh. 'It's just like the power cord on one of those fancy vacuum cleaners...' Link mused. In seconds, the little plug vanished as well; Sheik smoothed his synthetic flesh back over the slot, and hitched together the seams of his clothing. Noticing Link, he offered a sunny smile.  
  
"Good morning, Master! Did you get adequate sleep?"  
  
It took Link's tired mind a few moments to make sense of the question. In truth, he'd been so shaken by falling out of bed and...everything else, that he really wasn't too well-rested. However, it's common knowledge that when someone asks how you are, he isn't expecting, nor does he want, the honest answer... "Huh? Oh. Yeah."  
  
"Are you hungry?" It was almost as though the 'bot was going through some sort of mental checklist. At least he hadn't offered to brush Link's teeth for him.  
  
'Yet...' Link thought. As it happened, watching Sheik put away his extension cord had done a lot to kill Link's appetite. "Actually...No. No, I'm not hungry at all. Thanks, though," he added, just in case. No point in being more of an ass than was absolutely necessary.  
  
Later on, as man and robot vegged out in the living room, watching the news, the topic of dreams came up. Link had gingerly settled into the sofa, praying that it wouldn't collapse under his weight, and Sheik had simply sat down on the floor. Link couldn't help but suspect that maybe the floor was a tad more comfortable...   
  
During a lull in the news, his 'bot had asked what he'd dreamed the night before. Raising one eyebrow slightly, Link studied his 'bot's near-perpetually chipper face. It seemed an innocent enough question. "I was on a golf course with a flock of three-headed sheep, than one of the sheep turned into the Prime Minister, and he attacked me with a golf club." Link shrugged.  
  
Sheik tilted his head to one side, and rolled his eyes to the floor, as though in deep thought. "Hm," he said finally. Apparently, his analytical little electronic brain couldn't make sense of the vaguely psychedelic dream, either. Soon enough his countenance brightened again. "I experienced a dream last night, also. My first one," he said, with a tinge of pride. And then, with all the candor of a five-year-old, he described his very first dream ever...  
  
"It was very pleasant," Sheik commented after he'd finished. He sat quietly, waiting patiently for an answer. Link noted with no great surprise that his mouth was hanging open a bit.   
  
'I wonder if he isn't one of those factory defectives, or something...' Seeing that Sheik was staring at him, and probably about to ask if something was wrong, Link decided it would be easier if his just said something so they could drop the subject and never, never bring it up again. "So......that was it, huh?" Sheik nodded, smiling even wider, if it was possible. "That's.........creepy." And it was. Link hadn't been able to soften it at all. It was creepy enough that the robot was dreaming, but...even if Sheik had been hylian, that was a creepy, messed up dream. Ick, just...ick.  
  
Sheik was confused. "Creepy? But there was no creeping involved at all..."  
  
Ruins of the Shadow Temple, 9:50 A.M...  
  
Callaghan was so angry. By this time his suit was beyond salvage, and he was tired of looking for his associate. 'That little maggot...' He'd been sulking on a rubble heap for some minutes now, trying to think where to look next. He was tired of this place. It stank of rot and filth...  
  
Imagine Callaghan's surprise and extreme irritation when the person he was searching for found him.  
  
Apt. 99, 10:00...  
  
The conversation over, man and 'bot returned their attention to the news. It was a live feed from Hyrtech Labs, in a large room brimming with camarabots, booms, and people, all swarming like ants. On a raised stage at the front of the room, a slightly plump, pretty blonde stepped up to the podium, and the room fell silent immediately. It turned out to be Dr. Zelda Harkinian, showing off, as promised last year, a demonstration of a new android design that the labs had funded. The 'bot on display, Impa, was big for an android, and seemed to be of the female persuasion. To be accurate, she seemed to be of the female professional wrestler persuasion. She didn't mimic hylians very well: armored plates were built right into her synthetic flesh, her hair was an unnaturally lustrous silver, and her eyes were burgundy. Easy on the eyes, as far as machines go, but odd as hell. Her movements, though, were fluid and graceful; and when a reporter asked Dr. Harkinian a question, half the time the robot answered it herself. Link wasn't paying much attention to the discussion, aside from the fact that Dr. Harkinian was pretty hot for a scientist. After about twenty minutes he got bored, switched the television off, and suggested that he and Sheik go for a walk. The robot, of course, agreed, and out the door they went.  
  
Hyrtech Labs conference room B, 10:05...  
  
Sweating under her makeup in the heat of the lights, Zelda tried to answer the many questions slung her way.   
  
"Since this android was designed for the purpose of replacing hylian secret service, are they classified as lethal weapons?"  
  
Zelda shook her head. "First off, the 'sheikah' androids won't be replacing secret servicemen anytime soon. There's no replacement for experience and hylian judgment. And, as the 'sheikahs' attacks are defensive and completely non-lethal, they have been cleared by Parliament as requiring no special license or registrations." She'd anticipated a question like that. The anti-gun community had a long arm and a loud mouth.  
  
"How exactly does the hybrid-circuit work?"  
  
Zelda smiled. And then there were always the blatantly stupid questions that were never in short supply. "Well, obviously, I can't walk you all through a slide presentation of the schematics." There were scattered chuckles and just as many baffled expressions as several reporters wondered what a schematic was. "All androids currently on the market run entirely on electric batteries. This poses a bit of a problem, as the batteries must be recharged several times per day. Impa here," she gestured toward her 'bot, "has n-cell electric batteries, which are then used to power a small hydrogen generator. The hydrogen generator is less expensive to run, runs more efficiently, and the batteries only need to be recharged once a day. Just like a person."   
  
Most of the reporters were now busily scribbling away at their notebooks, when one of the brighter ones caught Zelda's attention with a waving hand.   
  
"Yes?" she asked politely. 'Only a few more minutes, be nice...'  
  
The reporter was an older gentleman. "Don't hydrogen generators need some sort of fuel source to extract the hydrogen from? Also, hydrogen cars were banned in most of the provinces for their high spontaneous combustion rate; could this be a safety hazard with your project?"  
  
Zelda's smile was genuine now. At least one of them knew what they were talking about... "That's an excellent question. While the generators in hydrogen cars do require an oil-based fuel source, the hydrogen generator in Impa is a completely different take on the concept of using hydrogen as an energy source. The 'H-bombs on wheels' were very volatile, in large part, because they depended on a combustible fuel source. This is because a hydrogen generator on its own isn't powerful enough to move something as heavy as a hovercar. It powered the internal combustion engine. An android needs nowhere near as much power, and therefore the generator needs far less hydrogen. Putting an internal combustion engine in an android would be like putting a V-12 in a lawnmower." This joke was easier to understand, and a few more reporters laughed this time around. "As for a hydrogen source, the generator we designed utilizes hydrogen from the air, which is pulled in by a device powered by the batteries into compartments lined with a mildly electrified jelly; the hydrogen ions in the air can then move through the jelly to the terminals of the generator."   
  
The majority of the reporters gave her a blank stare. 'Ah, well. We can't all be Ph.Ds...' Zelda checked her watch. Hallelujah. "I can take one more question."  
  
A young woman spoke up. "Can you tell us more about the android that was stolen?"  
  
Sighing softly, Zelda decided to throw them a bone. The theft was a scandal, anyway, and the less the labs said, the more the media would make up as they went along. "The second 'sheikah' is almost identical to Impa in structure and programming. It was built as a more civilian alternative to...well...this." She indicated Impa's armor plates and powerful servomotors. "The investigators are analyzing the evidence and following up on a few promising leads." True, a little lie here and there never hurt. "No more questions, please."  
  
Ruins of the Shadow Temple, 10:07 A.M...  
  
Callaghan sat and watched the black fluid mist curl around him. Some people (the smart-ass ones) would be quick to point out that it would be very difficult, nay, impossible, for the ill-tempered man to see black mist in a pitch-black room. An interesting thing about this particular sentient mist was that it was so dark that it was, in fact, a bit on the bright side, and it stood out quite clearly. His associate had finally deigned to grace Callaghan with his presence, it seemed. Glaring, Callaghan stood up and dusted himself off as best he could.  
  
"Cut the crap, shithead. I need to talk to you."  
  
Languidly, taking its time and making it quite known that it was taking its time, the mist coalesced into a solid form. It had been a very long time, but Callaghan immediately recognized the pale pink eyes and aggravating smirk of the monster.   
  
Anyone observing this scene (who had biologically impossible night vision) would have recognized the shape and features of the sweet little android, Sheik. There the similarities ended. The Sheik-monster, for one thing, looked like an albino that had bathed in bleach his entire life. That, and his bearing was such that Callaghan always felt a strong desire to punch the little bastard in the face, as a warm-up for the excruciating pain he'd inflict later, of course...   
  
After looking Callaghan over from head to toe in amusement, the monster spoke. "It's been such a long time since you've visited me, dear, and that's the way I'm greeted," he said in a lilting tenor, in a language long dead. Callaghan wanted so badly to punch him right in the chops. The monster pouted, "And you didn't even bring me a present? No flowers? No pretty shiny things? None of those little rice candies that you know I like?"  
  
Callaghan took up the old language. "They don't make those anymore."  
  
The monster frowned. "Damn."  
  
Callaghan grumbled something under his breath. "You can spout nonsense all you want later. I didn't come here to enjoy your company, because I don't. I need you to help me with something."  
  
The Sheik look-alike crossed his arms. "That's all you woke me up for, is it? A favor? I don't like favors. What do you need, then, dear?"  
  
Callaghan sighed. In truth, he was amazed that the little prick had paid as much attention to what was going on as he had so far. "I'm sure my coming here isn't what woke you up, was it?"  
  
The monster brightened. "Well, look who's starting a conversation. You did wake me up." Callaghan scowled. "But I think I'd have woken up in a few months, anyway," the monster went on. "I had a very interesting dream just now. Very pleasant," he added, grinning knowingly, his voice dripping innuendo. "How long have I been sleeping, would you say, dear?" The monster glanced around. "This mess is almost unrecognizable."   
  
Callaghan looked relatively pleased. The monster could understand fairly complex things, but those things had to be taken apart and given to the monster's decidedly one-track mind in bite-size pieces, very slowly. "Ten millennia, give or take." With luck, the monster would understand what was wanted of him within an hour. The puke could take a lot of persuasion.  
  
The monster's pink eyes widened. "That long?" He closed his eyes thoughtfully. "Ten thousand years. Goodness, how time flies... Have I missed anything important?"  
  
Callaghan shrugged. "Only a few dozen complete social upheavals. Empires, plagues, wars, nothing you hadn't seen before."  
  
The monster glared. "Well, if you're going to oversimplify everything like that, then you just keep it to yourself! You're a bit depressing to talk to; perhaps you could use a nap?"  
  
Callaghan snorted and curled his lip. The monster's brain was wandering off on a tangent again, and if Callaghan didn't guide it back to the subject at hand, he'd have to start over. "You were talking about a dream you had."  
  
The monster (let's just save trouble and call him Monster, shall we?) looked like a deer caught in headlights for a moment. "What? ...Oh! Now I remember!" Monster smiled. "Even you can't ruin my good mood today, dear. I found my counterpart."  
  
Callaghan did a very good job of covering his elation at this. This tidbit of information made everything a hell of a lot easier, provided his could work out some sort of contract with the shithead.  
  
Meanwhile, Monster was counting on his fingers and moving his lips, making calculations. "Let's see...ten millennia, and then there was all the time I was awake and didn't bother about him (I still can't recall what had me so fed up with him), and then there was..." He closed his eyes and opened them again. "It's just been much too long we've been apart. But it was the strangest thing. I wasn't even looking for him anymore, and there he was. And he's so different from how he used to be. Of course, I suppose a person can change a lot after so many lifetimes... I do like the change, though. I think he's much happier this way. So much more agreeable," he purred.   
  
Callaghan interrupted Monster's chattering. "Do you suppose you could find him in person?"  
  
"Oh, of course!" Monster said excitedly. "I'd love to! It would be so nice to see him again, and it's been such a long time since I've been awake; I miss everything..." He paused as a few thoughts managed to catch up with the rest of his mind. "Since when are you so interested in my business, dear? You haven't exactly been very affectionate toward me this past epoch."  
  
Callaghan grinned. Monster shifted slightly. "As a matter of fact," said Callaghan, "that's just what I wanted to talk to you about. I need you to find your counterpart for me."  
  
Now Monster was definitely suspicious. "Why? He's not yours."  
  
Callaghan had a ready reply. "What an astute observation. Actually, I've been looking for mine for years with no luck. And where yours is, mine usually isn't far." He looked nonchalant. "It would be a place to start looking again. Surely you sympathize that it gets lonely after a while."  
  
Eyeing Callaghan sidelong, Monster's galling smirk came back. "I'd be exposing my own counterpart to danger. It has been a very, very long time I've been alone. If I do this, what's in it for me?"  
  
Callaghan frowned. "Finding your counterpart. I thought you wanted to."  
  
Monster smiled and drifted closer. "Yes, but I can do that easily enough on my own. What if I don't feel like helping you? I think we'd both agree that I owe you nothing."  
  
Callaghan snarled. "You'll get your payment. And I think it would be wise of you to cooperate with me and stop being so difficult. I know you do it on purpose."  
  
Laughing and tweaking Callaghan's cheek, Monster said, "It would be wise of me, would it? You have no control over me."  
  
Callaghan growled. "Don't." He was very nearly ready to call it quits on self-restraint.  
  
"Your negotiating skills need a bit of polish, dear. I think I'll pass, if it's all the same to you." He moved his hand to ruffle Callaghan's hair.  
  
And that was that. Callaghan hated having his hair ruffled. With bruising force, he caught Monster's wrist and twisted the arm around behind Monster's back at an exceedingly uncomfortable angle. Monster yelped and tried to pull away. "I think you should be more open to compromise," Callaghan growled.  
  
Monster glared sharply, tears pricking his eyes. "You can't kill me."  
  
Callaghan gave Monster a toothy grin, and tightened his grip. Frost began to form on his hands and Monster held back a scream. "But I can make you wish I could," Callaghan said softly. It wasn't a threat; it was the simple statement of a fact.   
  
Monster felt like his insides were freezing solid. He gritted his teeth, whimpering.   
  
Callaghan leaned down close to one of Monster's pointed ears and whispered, "Now, be a love and agree, and when I do find your counterpart, I won't rip him to shreds alive. There's your payment." He also twisted Monster's arm a bit more, for good measure. There was a faint groaning sound, like a bone about to give.  
  
Monster was not an evil creature by nature, but he certainly wasn't a martyr. His vision was swimming, and he hurt. It was time to sell out until a more convenient time. "All right. All right, I agree," he stammered. "Let go, ALL RIGHT, I said! Stop it, you're hurting me!"  
  
Now smirking himself, Callaghan let go and stepped back, allowing Monster to sink to the floor. The vanquished massaged his aching arm, being careful of the purple-black frost burns that marred the moon-white skin on his arm and side. He stared at the floor glumly. "There's no need for that, dear," he said, sounding cautiously annoyed. He slowly raised his gaze to Callaghan's face. The man looked almost cheerful. 'And why wouldn't he be, considering what he is...'  
  
Callaghan didn't bother helping his associate off the ground, but watched as Monster hauled himself to his feet. "Now that that's settled," Callaghan said calmly, "You'd best start looking. It's nearly lunchtime already."  
  
##  
  
Confused? Me too! Oh, but I do so love Monster... I wish I could have thought up a better name for him, though. Oh well. Monster isn't such a bad name; in fact, I think it's starting to grow on me already. And have we all guessed who Callaghan is? If you haven't, then don't worry about it; you'll find out soon enough. This story just gets more and more fun. I'm glad I decided to write it. It's certainly changed a lot since I first had the idea, but I think I like it better this way. ^^ Happy me... 


	5. Ahunting we will go

Civcopter ID#34-09-37, 12:17 P.M., the following day...  
  
"Oh, look at it all! This is all Castletown? It's so big!"  
  
These and other appreciative comments were spouted with abandon as Monster took in a skyline ten thousand years away from the one he knew. Despite the fact that his side of the copter also had a perfectly suitable window, he was leaning over Callaghan to look out of his. Every now and then, he'd turn his head to gaze a little longer at a particularly impressive (or suggestive) skyscraper, the movement being just enough to make one of his earchains flick Callaghan in the face. He was unaware of the fact that one of Callaghan's eyelids seemed to be twitching. Monster wouldn't have been surprised.  
  
Meanwhile, Callaghan had found himself with a lapful of supernaturally irritating Monster, and had to keep reminding himself, often, that Monster couldn't be killed. And Monster's neck was right there; it would be so easy just to reach out and...SNAP! '...Nah. He'd be pissed for years. I don't have that kind of time...'  
  
"Don't lose track of what you're supposed to be doing," Callaghan said, making Monster look at him for just an instant to grunt affirmation. "I don't expect you to goof off and generally make a worthless pest of yourself. Are we clear on this?"  
  
"Crystal, dear," murmured Monster, who was only half listening. He wouldn't have been listening at all if his ear hadn't been so close to Callaghan's mouth to begin with.  
  
Apt. 99, 1:30 P.M...  
  
Link was enjoying the first boring day he'd had in a week. Well, boring after he'd gotten over that little dream conversation... Carefully sprawled out on the sofa-of-questionable-safety, he was trying to find his place in a book he'd started who knows how long ago, and was getting the sinking feeling that he was going to have to start over again.  
  
Sheik had decided to read, too. Curled up on the floor, leaning against the sofa, he happily flipped through the yellow pages of the phone book. ...Well, it beat staring at the walls.  
  
The outdoor tables outside of "Dobie's," 2:00 P.M...  
  
"You know, when I said I was hungry, this isn't quite what I'd meant," Monster said between slurps, "not that this isn't good, though. What is this called again?"  
  
Callaghan sat across from him at a (of all idiotic things...) pretending-to-be-wrought-iron table shaded by a hideous red and white striped umbrella, surrounded by people eating ice cream and generally looking very out of place. He was also, at the moment, trying to look as though he and Monster didn't know one another at all. "Toffee-flavored ice cream," he grumbled. "Hurry up and finish so we can get going."  
  
Monster rolled his eyes, but refrained from saying anything, seeing as he was giving his nearly undivided attention to his ice cream cone. He had to admit, he didn't eat food very often (he preferred what he subsisted on), but this stuff was pretty damn good. 'I wonder how they make this and get it cold and whatnot...'  
  
Callaghan risked a glance across the table, and made as much of an embarrassed face as he would allow himself. "For Goddesses' sakes, don't eat it like that!"  
  
Removing the ice cream cone from his trap for a moment, Monster raised one eyebrow and asked, quite innocently, "Like what?"   
  
Callaghan made a few inane gestures with his hands, opened and shut his mouth a few times, and finally, for lack of anything better to say, replied, "Just...stop doing what you're doing."  
  
Monster removed the cone again and tilted his head to one side in confusion. "Stop eating it? But I thought you wanted me to hurry up and finish it."  
  
Callaghan covered his eyes with one hand and slumped down in his uncomfortable pretend-wrought-iron chair in defeat. "No! Look...you can finish it, just...you don't need to...don't..."  
  
Meanwhile, Monster went back to work on his cone, seeing as it was threatening to melt onto his hand. He hated feeling all sticky...  
  
Callaghan still struggled. "Just lick the cone on ONE side, like everybody else! There are kids here, you know. And you're going to gag yourself if you..."  
  
He was interrupted by a cough and some weak sputtering from Monster, who had surprised the little hanging-down part in the back of his mouth with something very cold.  
  
"...shove that thing any farther back into your GAPING MAW!" he finished, drawing more than a few stares from the other people in the area. Monster coughed once, and decided that he was done with his ice cream. Gagging like that had almost put him off his appetite.  
  
As they walked down the street a ways, Monster gathered up enough gall to breach the cloud of grouchiness and doom that always seemed to hang around Callaghan whenever he was in his associate's company.  
  
"I'm hungry."  
  
"Tough shit."  
  
Monster sighed. "Can't I go hunt just one very, very quickly? One hour?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Forty-five minutes, then?"  
  
"No." Callaghan was stopped by the sound of someone's foot stomping the ground. He turned to see a rather unhappy Monster standing in the middle of the sidewalk with his arms folded.   
  
"Why not?" Monster barked, in a sort of whiny tone. "I've fasted for ten millennia; why won't you let me go hunt now?" The poor thing was in a city of well over one million people. It was like leading a starving man through a Las Vegas buffet without giving the man a plate.  
  
Callaghan walked over to his impossibly annoying associate and grabbed hold of one of his arms. "I'll tell you when you can hunt," he hissed, "People are staring at us; now come on. The building is only a few more blocks away."  
  
Reluctantly, Monster gave up on causing a scene and resumed following his incredibly uptight associate. His thoughts were wandering off on their own somewhere, when they chanced to light on a certain dairy-based subject. A devious smile graced his features and his eyes lit up with the happy glow of comprehension, like someone who's just gotten a joke a full half-hour after it was told. "Oh, I think I understand now, with the ice cream. You thought it looked like I was-"   
  
A razor-sharp glare from Callaghan was enough to wither the words on Monster's lips, but the little Sheik-copy indulged in a very satisfying snigger.  
  
"Who'd have thought that you would imagine something like that. You have been living with the hylians too long, dear."  
  
Keaton St. Pub, 10:04 P.M...  
  
Reggie's seat had been empty the night before. No one else had taken the stool closest to the tap out of habit; that's where that woman sits. Always. And she hadn't been there yesterday. That had been slightly...well...awkward for her companions. The bar just didn't feel quite right.   
  
Reggie was here now, though she was, as some would term it, in a state. She still wore her customary broomstick skirt, but wore a big ol' well worn sweatshirt over it, had her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail (that was looking rather tortured), and was sans make-up. She was also wearing sneakers. Something was wrong in the universe. One could see that by looking at her clothes, but it would probably be easier to arrive at the same conclusion by noticing that she was sobbing with her head buried in her arms on the bar, two empty shot glasses keeping her company. So far, only Kaylee had been able to understand the muffled whimpers emanating from the distraught Reggie as words. She'd been acting as a sort of translator for Doru and Link, Doru sitting in Kaylee's usual seat while the zora sat next to Reggie, and Link listening from wherever he happened to be while working the bar. Sheik really didn't know what was going on, but that's okay.  
  
"She says it just happened last night," Kaylee explained. The three had learned so far that Reggie's beau had more or less dropped her like a hot potato after an...unfortunate accident.* In front of quite a few people. Bastard.  
  
The goron blinked. "So why's she here? Shouldn't she be," he shrugged, "I don't know, at her mom's place, or something?" Two glares were aimed his way. "What? ...Oh. Yeah; forgot about that for a minute."  
  
Kaylee was the first to remember Doru's question. "When crap like this happens, it's important to stick to your routine. That, and I guess Reggie's going to get herself plastered. Don't blame her." She turned to Reggie again, laying a comforting fin on the hylian's shoulder. "I hate to be the one to say something so cliché, but there are plenty other fish in the sea."  
  
Reggie had gathered herself up enough for her next comment to be somewhat understood by all parties concerned. "But I don't want another fish," came a muffled, somewhat slurred statement, "I liked the fish I had."  
  
Link made perhaps one of the more helpful interjections of the evening. "Reg, you want some coffee, or something?"  
  
"Yes, please." Sniffle.  
  
Kaylee leaned down near Reggie's ear. "How'd he find out, anyway?" she asked softly.  
  
Lifting her head and wiping her eyes with one voluminous sweatshirt sleeve, Reggie cupped her hand around the zora's earhole and whispered. Kaylee's eyes widened and her face, by degrees, contorted into an enraged snarl.  
  
"He did WHAT right there with people watching?!" she hissed. Reggie nodded and rested her chin on her arms in utter dejection. "Ick! What a slimeball!"  
  
"What? What'd he do? I'm out of the loop over here," Doru said, curiosity piqued by Kaylee's reaction. At a nod from Reggie, Kaylee turned to the goron, and, beckoning Link to come closer, related, in hushed tones a heavily edited version of what she'd been told by Reggie. Two pairs of eyebrows rose as Kaylee finished her narrative.  
  
"Ick," Doru agreed, not elaborating any further on what he thought was icky.  
  
Link snorted and finished pouring the derelict Reggie a cup of coffee. Setting it down in front of her, he went to work cleaning some glasses and absently mixing a few orders, dragging everything down near the end of the tap, so he could sit within earshot of the conversation.  
  
Doru was gamely trying to be comforting to a person he was used to giving hell to. Well, he was trying. "So...um...How long were you with this guy, again?"  
  
"Three months," Reggie muttered, sipping coffee and staring at a wood knot in the bar.   
  
Doru's eyebrows looked like they'd have shot right off his head if they weren't attatched. He slapped the bar. "Damn! And you held him off that long?" He shook his head. "Well, be glad he's gone because he was cheating."  
  
This sparked enough interest to actually get Reggie to make eye contact for a second. "How do you know?"  
  
Doru chuckled. "No guy's gonna wait that long to get into anyone's pants, Reg. He had something on the side." He winked. "I mean, would YOU wait that long?"  
  
"Yes." Reggie went back to her coffee.  
  
Doru coughed and found a fascinating light fixture on the ceiling. Things had gotten awkward very quickly, even for him. He had to regroup, and fast. "Well..." he started off again, "It's not like you can't find someone else; I mean," he fumbled for words, "You're..." Not beautiful, not handsome; in fact, Doru had always be of the opinion that words couldn't describe Reggie. They weren't twisted enough. "Attractive, I guess. For a hylian." Reggie glanced over, a little jolted by the sound of a compliment coming from the goron's mouth. And Doru could have stopped there. COULD have, but didn't. "I mean, you look pretty shitty right now, with your eyes all bloodshot and halfassed crossdressing, but..."   
  
Reggie sighed and went back to her coffee.  
  
"But you know what I mean!" Doru was grasping at very slippery straws. He gave it up for now; he didn't need this kind of stress.  
  
The Hailey Building, 69th floor, 2:47 A.M...  
  
"Seven," Monster stated with a touch of pride. "Seven in three hours! But you know," he mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "It was the strangest thing; I must have hunted more than thirty hylians, and most of them were so frightened of me I'd have to leave. Why are they all so jittery?" he asked Callaghan, who was wishing Monster had stayed out longer, "They act as though I'm diseased."  
  
Callaghan was also wishing that he'd had the sense to disappear for a few hours. He rubbed his temples. "That's exactly what they're worried about. A hylian who acts like you do would be swimming with disease. Unpleasant ones."  
  
Furrowing his brow, Monster crossed his arms and stared at the floor for a few moments. "What, like the flu?"  
  
Monster was whiter than usual when Callaghan finished explaining that, no, the flu wasn't what the hylians were leery about. Callaghan had taken the liberty of being quite a bit more graphic than was absolutely necessary, and was fighting to keep a straight face.  
  
"Oh," said Monster. There was a heavy pause. "But they should know that I can't give them anything like that; I'm-"  
  
"You're an idiot, is what you are," interrupted Callaghan, anxious to get the stupid conversation over with so they could get on to business. "It's been too long; no one can tell what the hell we are anymore."  
  
"Neither can you, if this place is any indication," mumbled Monster under his breath.  
  
Callaghan got up and walked to the windows. "I don't suppose you even thought to look for your counterpart while you were out."  
  
"I still don't understand why you need to find mine to find yours," Monster said from his perch on the back of a sofa near the office door.   
  
Callaghan faked embarrassment. "I...I can't feel mine anymore. I've been away too long. I need a place to start looking."  
  
Not swayed, Monster immediately counter-pointed. "But wasn't your counterpart always closer to the air kymmate's** counterpart, anyway? Why didn't you ask her for help?"  
  
Callaghan scoffed and turned to his associate. "And where the hell would I find her? Can you find her? Right. She doesn't care. She's too busy sulking around feeling sorry for herself because she's so goddessesdamn weak and stupid." He looked pointedly at Monster. "Right?"  
  
Monster shot a sullen glower Callaghan's way when he was sure his ill-tempered kymmate wasn't looking. Callaghan could make himself very trying at times. Most times, actually. But Monster was aware that what was once a minor annoyance was now no slight threat to anything that triggered Callaghan's prodigious mean streak. In all the time Monster and the other kymmates had been sleeping, or wandering, or fooling around, Callaghan had been hunting, insatiably. And it showed. Callaghan's little freezing stunt in Monster's ruins had really HURT, and Monster hadn't been able to do a thing about it.   
  
Still, there were always weaknesses to work with. 'Since he seems to be in such a great hurry to find his counterpart,' Monster thought to himself, thinking one of the longest and most complex thoughts he'd attempted in a while, 'it wouldn't do him much good if I'm too injured or angry to do my part.' Simple as he may have been in other areas, Monster really did have a very good sense of when it was time to push his luck and when it was time to back off. With this self-reassurance, Monster settled into the sofa cushions for a light snooze. Such good hunting after ten millennia of nothing was certainly welcome, but if this was how every hunting trip would be, Monster strongly suspected that he'd drop from exhaustion.  
  
Callaghan turned from the window, curious at the lack of asinine chatter. Monster was sleeping, a big dopey grin on his galling, insufferable, abrading, incredibly maddening visage. Callaghan entertained the notion of shattering those delicate little facial bones into a fine paste with a baseball bat. 'But...wooden, or aluminum? Wood is, of course, traditional, but aluminum does make that lovely "ping" sound when it connects...' After an intense internal struggle, Callaghan decided that hitting Monster while he slept would not be wise, because then Monster would wake up. And a Monster asleep meant a Monster that wasn't talking, or pestering him, or trying to be cuddly...   
  
Callaghan was a bundle of nerves. He had hoped that Monster would have started looking for his stupid, anal-retentive little counterpart by now. He'd let it slide for a few decades, but the mortal kym were long overdue for an Awakening, and Callaghan would much rather nip the whole thing in the bud before the situation got messy. But, damn it all, he hadn't been all bluff when he'd fed Monster that tripe about not being able to feel his counterpart. He could feel his, all right, but he couldn't for the love of Nayru feel WHERE he was... And if he let them Awaken, and couldn't derail what always came after, then there'd be hell to pay... But if Monster proved himself worth Callaghan's time, and he did find just one of them, then if there really was an Awakening on the way... 'They always find each other; they can't help it, and then it'll be easy to just,' he snapped his fingers softly on his way out of his office. 'And if there isn't an Awakening, better safe than sorry.'  
  
He was worrying too much. He needed to relax, take his mind off things. "Hold my calls, Sylvia," he said to his secretary on his way past her desk to the nearest elevator. Stepping into an empty elevator, he flipped open a blank panel under the buttons and pressed one of the small buttons revealed underneath the cover. Express to Basement Five.  
  
Apt. 99, 4:00 A.M...  
  
Link had woken up. Water was sometimes too much of a good thing. With that little errand taken care of, he stumbled back to bed. Settling down to go back to sleep, Link glanced over at Sheik, who had been surprisingly quiet today, well, technically yesterday, but... 'It's a break from all the perkiness, though...'  
  
The 'bot had what could only be accurately described as a big dopey grin on his face. As Link watched, the 'bot hugged up his pillow and sighed contentedly; every now and then one of his servomotors would twitch.  
  
Link decided that it would be a good idea to lie on his other side and stare at something that wasn't disturbing, like a wall, or something like that. 'I don't want to know, and know not I shall...not...know...of...things.'  
  
The Hailey Building, 69th floor, 4:01 A.M...  
  
Monster was having a lovely day, even if he was currently sleeping. His counterpart was easy enough to find in dreams, now if only Monster could remember how to feel him while they were both awake. He regretted ignoring his counterpart for so long. Especially now that he was so sweet and agreeable...   
  
But, of course, that was something to ponder when Monster was awake. At the moment he'd rather not think more than was strictly necessary. If it was at all possible, his grin curled a little wider.  
  
##  
  
Aaaaaand, that's the end of that chapter. I hadn't intended for Callaghan to be so angry, but...I think this works better; it makes him a much better foil for the Monster. I hope I wasn't too obscure with the ice cream gag. I didn't want to just be crude and spell out what it looked like Monster was doing to that poor little ice cream cone; it would have lost something. I also didn't want to spell out Monster's hunting practices, but I think that that was more obvious. It'll get explained, sooner or later. From now on, I'll have to be careful not to trip myself up... Questions? Comments? Concerns? :) The third chapter DOES tie into the story, I promise. Trust me. And, yes, Kotake "Ice"... Koume "Fire" will appear later... Good use of deductive reasoning. Speaking of deductive reasoning, most of you are guessing who certain people are...? Monster's been given away already; and I can only imagine what some of you are theorizing... Whee! Fun, eh? I wonder who will be right... 


	6. Hide and seek

Gak! I forgot the notes last chapter! Sorry, my fault... So, without further ado, the notes from chapter 5: *that being, at a social function of sorts (high-class, anyone worth less than 10 mil. was kindly asked to bugger off) her drunk beau made an ill-placed grope. And that sure sobered him up. **having forgotten their origins over the eons, the Monster and his kymmates have taken to referring to each other by the areas and elements they favor and over which they have the most influence.  
  
##  
  
Cañòn de la lagartija*, Republic of Gerudia, 8:30 a.m...  
  
La Hacienda de la Lagartija really wasn't much of a ranch, when one really got down to it. There had been a time when business had been brisk, the ranch turning a tidy profit for its happy, healthy, drop dead gorgeous gerudian horses. Then a nasty hoof-and-jaw epidemic had swept through the country. Such is the fluid nature of agriculture.  
  
The mobile home that sheltered the ranch's two inhabitants started to smell vaguely of sulfur in the heat of the day, so the younger gerudo had gone outside to languish in the shade of a gnarled tree in the front yard. Listening to the music crackling out of a pair of geriatric headphones and watching the ranch's sole remaining horse, an evil-tempered old mare, the little gerudo wondered what it must be like to live in a city. Or even a small town. Any place with actual people in it to interact with would do, actually. Grandmother and Cielo were all right, but their company got a little...tiresome. Especially Grandmother.   
  
Last year, the young gerudo had found out that Grandmother's twin sister was living in Hyrule's capital. Grandmother refused to speak of the woman, and had, of course, denied her young charge permission to visit.  
  
It was hot today, even by gerudian standards. Cielo drooped and sighed in the shade on her side of the fence. Even the hateful little wasps that nested just about everywhere on the ranch were droning along as though they'd drop any second.  
  
The young gerudo felt very restless.  
  
Bipin Tower, top floor, 9:00 a.m...  
  
The same radio station was flowing through the speakers of Reggie's stereo. The hylian was painfully trying to keep her attention on Logivo's quarterly financial report. Being the main shareholder of the company had engendered in Reggie a sensible expertise in the workings of androids, and Link's new acquisition had piqued her curiosity.   
  
She knew how 'bots were programmed; she knew what mechanical bits and gewgaws made them work. Compared with a living person, an android was heavy, inefficient, ponderous, and stupid. The word 'clunky' summed it all up rather well. And the most important difference was: androids can't think. Their tiny computer chip brains consisted of preprogrammed responses to a limited variety of stimuli. About the most complex 'thought' an android was capable of was something along the lines of: "Forward motion obstructed by solid obstacle. Move backward 1.5 seconds. Rotate right/left 1.7 seconds. Resume forward motion."   
  
Reggie knew this. She knew that 'bots weren't supposed to ask you why clear fluid was leaking from your eye sockets, and they weren't supposed to balance trays on one hand, and they weren't supposed to take offence at insults, or run, or ask questions of any kind... 'Hell,' Reggie thought, 'they're not supposed to be able to even speak unless specifically told to...' It was certainly galling.  
  
Abandoning the report until she could concentrate on it, Reggie sighed and languidly flipped through the newspaper. An article five pages back from the front of the business section caught her eye. Its picture featured Dr. Zelda Harkinian, looking very uncomfortable behind a podium, and a huge, armor clad woman that reminded Reggie of a female professional wrestler. Reading the column, a nagging little idea started to itch in the recesses of Reggie's mind.  
  
"So that's what she's been working on..." she muttered aloud, her eyes drifting back to the picture and the impressive-looking android. Confidential as Dr. Harkinian's project had been, nothing is entirely secret to people of Reggie's station. She'd known that Dr. H. was tinkering with a new fuel idea for androids that would make them less expensive to run, but this was a little different. The new fuel source was there, but Zelda had taken the liberty of completely redesigning her two androids around it. With a little grunt of admiring acknowledgment, Reggie clicked the computer screen off and wandered off to do something else with herself for a while. Espying a paperback she hadn't finished yet, she plucked it up off of her coffee table and settled down onto the sofa with it. The young and raven-haired heroine was just becoming aware of a strange tingle in her nether regions at the sight of mysterious and ruggedly handsome Lord Sheffield when a horrifying thought hit Reggie like an expertly wielded two-by-four.  
  
Carefully marking her place in the book and setting it down, Reggie sat up and stared out her living room window for a moment.  
  
"Well, shit."  
  
Apt. 99, 9:30 a.m...  
  
Sheik was beginning to wonder whether he was experiencing a recurring dream. Both nights, it seemed as though he was just on the cusp of remembering something when he would come out of standby. This time, though, there lingered a sort of diffused warmth that wouldn't go away. For some reason, he also kept looking at himself, as though he expected at any moment to see something other than synthetic skin and lycra.  
  
Meanwhile, Link grunted and batted ineffectually at the alarm clock. Giving up, he sighed and reluctantly pulled himself up into a sitting position. Glancing over, Link noted that the 'bot wasn't being his usual bubbly self. Sheik sat still as a statue, eyes unfocused, arms slack. 'Is he frozen? Do I need to reset something? It sure as hell better not be fried out already...' And then, as though the 'bot had heard what Link had been thinking, he moved.  
  
Still staring into the middle distance, Sheik gripped his extension cord and absently jerked it out of the wall outlet, letting it recoil and smoothing down the seams of his clothing. On autopilot, he stood and wandered off down the hallway, leaving Link groggy and confused. 'Weird.'  
  
Hailey Building, 69th floor, 9:45 a.m...  
  
Callaghan was impressed, Monster was delighted to note, though he did a good job of hiding it. Sitting across from him, Callaghan set down his glass (filled with some kind of alcohol, no doubt; Monster really didn't care what), leaving faint copper-colored fingerprints. He leaned back.  
  
"So," Callaghan began matter-of-factly, "you know exactly where he is, or is it just a general idea?"  
  
Monster suppressed a wriggle of sheer revelry at having Callaghan's undivided attention. He wondered how long he could string it out. "It's very strange, isn't it?" he said in his old tongue, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling, "People used to worship us. The four devils..." He cast a quick glance at Callaghan, who looked irritated, as per usual. "I passed a few temples while I was hunting, you know. Covered in triforces, all of them. Nothing to the fourth god, no shrines to us, or anyone else. You were right; no one remembers us."  
  
"Come to the point," Callaghan growled.   
  
As stated before, Monster had an excellent sense of when to back off. This was one of those times. "My counterpart doesn't remember me at all. Not consciously, at any rate. A little depressing, but perhaps it's for the best. We didn't part on the best of terms."  
  
Callaghan sighed. Monster's mind was clearly wandering off on a tangent again. "But you can find him?"  
  
Monster nodded. "Oh, of course. It took a few tries, but I can feel him now. It's only a matter of heading where it's strongest." He crossed his feet on the coffee table, grinning. "As they say here: no sweat."  
  
Standing, Callaghan looked down at Monster, his expression unreadable. "Very good. Now and then you aren't a disappointment, flower**."  
  
Warming to the old pet name, Monster tilted his head to one side and said, "So, perhaps it's time we renegotiated my fee?" He batted his eyelashes unconsciously.  
  
Callaghan's face remained static as he walked to the door. "We agreed that your counterpart would live. Don't be greedy." When he reached the door, he looked back at his pouting associate. "And get your boots off the table."  
  
As soon as the door closed behind Callaghan, Monster scowled and put his feet back up on the glass-topped coffee table. How frustrating! 'He has become such a...a what do they call it? Oh, yes. A jerk!' Dissolving into black mist, Monster left the room through the window in a huff. Hylians made much more congenial company. Monster was going for a walk.  
  
Apt. 99, 11:50, a.m...  
  
In his search for a soup ladle (condensed soup he could manage relatively well), Sheik found a little holograph*** in one of the many junk drawers in the kitchen. It was a wallet size portrait of a redheaded woman with hazel eyes. She looked very cheerful and friendly, with a smile that lit up her face and made her eyes sparkle. A little twitch of curiosity broke through the 'bot's dream-induced funk.  
  
"Who does this represent, Master?" he asked, holding out the picture for Link to examine. Link took it and set it on the table in front of him.   
  
"This? That's Malon Lonson. We dated for a while a couple years ago."  
  
Sheik found the ladle and handed it and the pan of soup to Link. Looking at his bowl, Link noticed that the soup had little black bits floating in it. Scorched. Well, at least it was edible. Sheik sat across from him, looking thoughtfully at the holograph.  
  
"A girlfriend?" he said, proud of his ever-expanding vocabulary.  
  
Link swallowed some soup, burning his tongue. "Ex-girlfriend now, but yes, she was my girlfriend."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Link wasn't sure whether Sheik was asking why Malon had been his girlfriend or why they'd broken up. He took a stab at the latter. "It just didn't work out. For one thing, she wanted to leave New Castletown. Wanted to raise horses, for some reason. I wanted to stay here, so I stayed and she left. There were a lot of little things, too, but..." Noticing Sheik's confused expression, Link decided that further explanation was futile. He was starting to confuse himself, come to think of it. In retrospect, his reasons for breaking up with Malon were pretty petty and stupid. "We didn't keep in touch. I wonder how she's doing," he mused to himself.  
  
Sheik had lapsed back into silence, so Link finished up his soup, put the dishes in the dishwasher, picked up the holograph, and gave it a fond looking over. Then he threw it away. 'Oh well. Burned my bridges.'   
  
Rauru Drive, 1:58 p.m...  
  
Traffic packed the street, 'Nabooru,' the gerudian singer's voice wafted from a record store on the corner, and the sidewalks were filled with people, many of whom were giving Monster some very odd looks.   
  
Monster took in his appearance. The deep violet spider-silk riding outfit had been new a few years before he'd gone to sleep, as were the riding boots, belt, and ear chains that ended in teardrop rubies. Compared to everyone else, even the zoras, who went around nude, Monster was a little incongruous. Reaching into the cuff of his boot, to the disapproving glare of an older hylian woman, Monster took out the little rectangle of plastic that Callaghan had given him in a desperate bid to get Monster out of his hair for a few hours. At the time, Monster had questioned what use he'd have for money. As much as he liked what he was wearing, he'd have to start blending in with everyone else sooner or later.   
  
Bipin Tower, top floor, 8:37 p.m...  
  
Gnawing the end of a pen, Reggie flipped through the pages of a phone book until she came to the number she needed. She set down her masticated pen and dialed, waited, and heard the answering machine pick up.  
  
"Goddesses..." Reggie muttered.  
  
'Hey, this is 939-2168; I can't take your call right now, but leave a message, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can, okay?'  
  
Beep.  
  
"Link?" Reggie began nervously, wondering how exactly she was going to say this. "This is Reggie. I know it's going to be really late when you check this, but could you come over right now? We really need to talk. It's...Well, it's about that inheritance of yours. Leave your 'bot at home." She rattled off her address. "Please, it's important."  
  
Setting the phone back in its cradle, Reggie sighed and stalked to the kitchen. She needed a stiff drink, and she didn't want to go out tonight. She felt sick.  
  
Keaton St. Pub, 10:30 p.m...  
  
The seat next to the tap was empty again. The normally convivial Sheik was silent and pensive, Kaylee and Doru kept themselves busy with idle chatter, and Link felt weird. It wasn't much, just a sort of niggling feeling of unease. The evening was crawling by in a sort of slow blur, Link mixing orders and talking with his two friends halfheartedly. He had the unmistakable feeling that he was missing something. He wondered, irrationally, he knew, if this was how the 'bot had been feeling all day.   
  
"Link!"  
  
"Huh?" Link snapped out of the cloud he was floating in and looked up at Kaylee. She looked concerned.  
  
"What's the matter?"  
  
Link shrugged. "Dunno. Just tired, I guess."  
  
"Well, take some vitamins and wake up, man," Doru said, "because you're trying to make a martini and a screwdriver at the same time."  
  
Looking down at the mess in his hands, Link saw that Doru was right. He sighed, dumped out the wasted liquor, and started over.  
  
Apt. 99, 10:33 p.m...  
  
Deep black mist that made the dark apartment seem glaringly bright by comparison seeped under the locked door. A minute later Callaghan and Monster stood in the living room, the latter dressed in slacks and a silk shirt, the ancient clothing gone except for the ear chains, which he couldn't bear to part with.   
  
Callaghan looked around. The apartment was empty, for the moment. With nothing better to do, he began to casually rifle through the drawers in the kitchen, pulling out and examining a few things only to shrug and replace them. Monster looked on, idly rubbing the growing bruise under his left eye. Callaghan had been less than thrilled when Monster had returned to the Hailey Building an hour ago. It seemed to Monster that any other time Callaghan would have been pleased that he'd spent so much time away without being told to.  
  
After a brief sojourn to the bedroom, for the look of it, Monster walked back to the front rooms, watching Callaghan, who was still poking around. 'What does he expect to find? He knows where my counterpart lives, isn't that all he needed?' Then, his eye was drawn by a movement. A little light was blinking on a machine sitting on the counter.   
  
"Dear?"  
  
"What?" Callaghan barked, with a glare that nearly made Monster take a nervous step back.  
  
Pointing, Monster said, "That thing's blinking."  
  
Ready to chastise his associate for being stupid, Callaghan walked over to investigate the 'thing.' Like a woman who has found her daughter-in-law's house to be spotlessly clean, Callaghan reluctantly acknowledged Monster's finding something useful.   
  
It was an answering machine.  
  
Cañòn de la lagartija, 10:34 p.m...  
  
The young gerudo didn't have a driver's license. This was a problem. Just to get out of the box canyon would take hours on foot. A soft snort was heard, and the gerudo looked back at Cielo, who had heard her owner's steps and had come out to see what was going on.  
  
The gerudo grinned, readjusted a tattered backpack, and walked over to the corral gate. Cielo, puzzled yet intrigued, pricked her ears forward and lumbered to the gate as well. Catching hold of Cielo's halter rope in one hand, the gerudo eased the gate open slowly, praying that it wouldn't creak and wake Grandmother. Making reassuring noises to keep the mare calm, the gerudo led her out and closed the gate again.   
  
After five minutes of soft pleading, the gerudo got the horse to move, and walked her for about half an hour. Certain that they were out of earshot of the house, the gerudo stopped. Stroking Cielo's black hair, the teen cautiously edged around to the horse's side and took hold of her mane. Swinging up onto her back, the gerudo was at once aware that Cielo's muscles were rigid, and her ears were flattened back onto her head tighter than the gerudo had thought possible. Cielo snorted, and the gerudo braced for the worst.  
  
Rearing with an angry snarl, Cielo broke into a gallop.  
  
Apt. 99, 10:35 p.m...  
  
'You have 2 new messages. Message 1.' Beep. 'Is Lupe Vargas. Hot water heater broken. Is no hot water today. I call plumber, he fix, but no hot water now.' Callaghan sighed. That had been useless.  
  
'To delete, press one. To save, press two. To go on to message two, press-' Callaghan pressed three. 'Message two.' Beep.   
  
The message played, and Callaghan's mood lightened considerably. Monster looked perplexed. "Is that a man or a woman?"  
  
Callaghan wrote down the name and address, shaking his head and smiling. "Doesn't matter." After the message ended, Callaghan pressed two to delete it. Then he took out a sheet of lined paper from one of the kitchen drawers, wrote a note, signed it, and folded it. Making sure everything was as they'd found it, he gestured to Monster, and a minute later they were on the other side of the locked door again. Slipping the note half under the door, Callaghan walked down to the elevator, humming cheerfully to himself. Monster wasn't far behind.  
  
Climbing into the backseat of the car, Monster sent Callaghan a sidelong glance as the car's hover generators hummed gently into life.  
  
"What was that about?" Monster asked.  
  
Looking briefly up at the driver, who wasn't listening as far as anyone could tell, Callaghan leaned back and favored Monster with another vaguely unnerving smile. "We're going to have a reunion. I have a phone call to make once we're home; in the meantime, don't disappear, hmm?" With a wink and a short bark of laughter, Callaghan closed his eyes and dozed contentedly. Monster could have sworn that he heard purring.  
  
Hyrtech Labs, 10:45 p.m...  
  
Dr. Harkinian had locked up her labs and was on her way out the door when she was stopped by an intern.   
  
"Yes?" she said, hoping that it was nothing that would make her stay even later than she had already. Trying to help with the police investigation on top of her own work was taking its toll.  
  
The intern bounced excitedly. Zelda felt a sudden strong urge to smack him for his perkiness. "The NCPD called just now." Zelda was ready to fire off a curmudgeonly remark along the lines of 'Oh, no, really?' but the intern wouldn't let her slip a word in. "They said that they think they've found your project. It's a little rough, but it's not totaled, and they said it matches your description of it. They said they just need you to come be for confirmation before they can take it into custody. Here." He handed her a scrap of paper, on which was written, hurriedly, the address for an old packing house on the south side of the city. The neighborhood was fairly affluent; Zelda was thankful that she wouldn't have to drive through one of the seedier parts of town. 'Well, this is good news.'   
  
Thanking the intern, who soaked up the praise like a slightly moist sponge, she said goodnight and continued on her way to the parking garage, her steps regaining a little of their old bounce as she went.  
  
The Hailey Building, 69th floor, 12:03 a.m...  
  
"I'm going hunting."  
  
Callaghan looked up from his newspaper, where he was cheerfully reading through the obituary/arrests page. "Hmm?"   
  
Monster thought he looked unjustifiably sunny. Callaghan's smile made icy shivers skip up his backbone. "I did what you asked of me. Now I'm going hunting."  
  
Instead of a burst of anger, or even a sharp look, Callaghan simply shrugged and went back to his paper. "By all means. Why do you need my permission?"  
  
A black cloud of mist slipped out through the high windows and drifted down to the ground far below. A moment later, a confused and muddled Monster walked along the bright-as-day and perpetually noisy streets. He was hunting, yes, but the hunting would be light tonight. What he needed to find was a garden, a park of some kind.  
  
For only the third or fourth time in his ancient life, Monster needed to have a good, long, serious think.  
  
Bipin Tower, 2:30 a.m...  
  
Dame Vodka was gradually withdrawing her numbing caress from Reggie's brain. With a groan and an interesting face, she cracked open one eye. The first thing that came to view was the ceiling light fixture, which sent nasty little ice picks into the back of Reggie's head. Throwing her arm over her eyes to block out the cursed light, she turned over and fell off the sofa onto the floor.  
  
Now more fully awake, Reggie sat up slowly, holding her head in her hands. Out of tradition, her mind asked the question asked by hung-over drunks throughout the generations. 'Where the hell am I?' Carefully opening her eyes again, Reggie squinted around the room and found that, yes, she was in her living room, and, yes, there was a half empty bottle of vodka on the coffee table. Sighing, she somehow stood up, though it made her headache worse, corked the bottle, and stumbled off to her bedroom to sleep off the hangover. She flicked off the lights and looked back into her living room for a moment, and at the entryway.  
  
'Hell, it's not like he'd show up, anyway.' She considered the fact that Link would undoubtedly think she was loony from here on out. 'It was the booze that did it. Or the hormones; things like her just aren't meant to be.' She also considered that she may have given a felon the chance to skip town, but she didn't care about that so much. Shaking her head, and immediately regretting it, Reggie changed into a set of pajamas and crawled into bed. Now was not the time to think. Her head hurt.  
  
Apt. 99, 2:34 a.m...  
  
Sheik was already in standby, having gone straight to bed without two words to Master. He felt funny; today had not been particularly enjoyable.  
  
Leaving the kitchen on his way to the bedroom, Link caught a spot of white out of the corner of his eye. It turned out to be a folded piece of paper, laying just inside the door. Absently, he picked it up, and was about to throw it away when he saw that it had writing on it. "Huh." Unfolding it, Link found that it was a note, written in measured printing. It looked very familiar.  
  
'Beneficiary,  
  
Being family, you are invited to a small gathering to be held on Tuesday, June 17 at 4:00 p.m. at 753 East Darunia Ave. Bring your Gift, as its builder would like very much to see it in operation.  
  
Your Good Friend'  
  
"The seventeenth is tomorrow," Link mused to himself. He'd have to call in sick, if he was going. Slipping notes in under the door and signing in code was a pretty shifty way of inviting someone to a party. Still, it wasn't like he was going to some desolate warehouse in the dead of night. He recognized the address as that of a snazzy bar and grill in a nice part of town. The building was even on the books as a historic landmark since it was a renovated packing house. That much seemed okay... 'I guess I'll have to sleep on it.'  
  
Seeing the light on the answering machine blinking, he hit 'two' and heard his landlady rant about the busted water heater. "Damn, no shower tomorrow morning, then." There were no other messages.  
  
##  
  
*Translated: Canyon of the Tiny Lizard. Regarded by the gerudo to be hilarious, regarded by everyone else to be rather juvenile.  
  
**A very sweet term of endearment. Every time Callaghan crushes a flower, he thinks of his kymmate.  
  
***A three-dimensional photograph. Pretty, but hang too many close together and you'll get nauseous. 


	7. On the road again

Excerpt from the fifth Kaeda, required reading for sheikahs training for priesthood...  
  
...When the creatures of the world were made, each god took some part. The animals, the plants, and also the forest people, the Scrubs and the Kokiri, belong to Farore. They are childlike. The Zoras and the Hylians belong to Nayru. The Zora are the water people, and have forms like fishes; the Hylian are of a form not unlike ours, and love the plains of the south. They are wise, and are great allies. The Gerudo and the Goron peoples belong to Din. The Gerudo have very few sons, and love the deserts of the west. They are dark-skinned, with ears that curve. The Goron are of large form, and possess great strength. They love the mountains. The Subrosians and the Sheikah belong to the god. The Subrosian people are a people of darkness, and are seldom seen. They love the caverns beneath the ground. The Sheikah are the people of shadows, and of all the peoples, we alone move by night. We claim the highlands of the north as our home. Treat your people well, for they are your sisters and your brothers. Treat the other peoples well, for they are your cousins. Revere the gods, for they gave you form. Love the Giants, for they give us life. Most of all, young one, love the One, for the One is all things...  
  
...When offering sacrifice or performing a rite of bonding, such as the blood rite, it is best to do so when Var's Eye is open. The night on which it is fully open is best. When praying or performing a blessing, it is best to do so when Var's Eye is closed or closing. When the eye is shut the ear is finer...  
  
...Priests and priestesses do not form kyms, instead they bond by blood. A tie by blood is strong, and such is needed in the absence of a kym. The rite is performed only by night. A clean knife makes a small cut in the skin above the heart. With one's blood, a drop is painted on the brow of the other. One's blood is also drunk in a small amount by the other. There is no prayer. The blood of Raj was shed without ceremony. Do not make the bond lightly, young one, lest it burden you...   
  
...When praying, pray alone. Praying in company creates confusion. Prayer can be done in dwellings or without, and during the day as well as the night. The recitation of mantras, the singing of the higher songs, and the speech of the spirit are all good prayer. Never pray for the harm of another, young one, for that is praying against the gods, the Giants, and the One...  
  
...When the world was made, the spirits of the Giants were rent from their bodies by the gods, and so the Giants sleep. The spirits of the Giants are held in the forms of people, and mortal lives are as dreams. One spirit is held in the form of a Sheikah, one in the form of a Gerudo, two in the form of Hylians. No spirit takes the form of a child of Farore, for she loved the Giants, and will not enslave them. The forms of the Spirits are mortal, and pass through rebirth as all others do. The Spirits are reborn alike each life; other people are reborn different in gender, in race, and in species. Aside from the mortal form, the Spirits also have immortal Shadows...  
  
End excerpt.  
  
Excerpt from the Goddessian scripture, near the front (before all the boring passages about the measurements of such-and-such temple and five-page-long lists of names)...   
  
...And, lo, the peoples of the world were made, some to wander the fields and others to dwell in the rivers, and the Goddess Nayru spake from the heavens unto them, and these were Her laws for the peoples:  
  
Murder not. Steal not. Commit not adultery. Worship not the Dark One. Be tempted not by the four devils...  
  
The devil of the wind shall cloud thy sight and dim thy mind, she shall maketh thee neglectful and sorrowful. She shall leadeth thee away from the Goddesses with sadness. The devil of fire shall sharpen thy mind overmuch, he shall maketh thee to scoff and jeer at the laws of the Goddesses. He shall coax thee away with laughter. The devil of earth shall stir thy heart with unnatural love. He shall maketh thee to spurn the Goddesses and grow detestable in Their sight. He shall lure thee away with caresses. The devil of water shall make thee numb and cold. He shall deaden thy senses and harden thy heart against the Goddesses. He shall drive thee away with force. Be ever vigilant, for the devils hate the Goddesses, and wait to ensnare Their children.  
  
Live at peace with the people of the waters, the people of the mountains, and the people of the forest, for they are good and righteous in the sight of the Goddesses. Beware the people of the desert, for their loyalty is passing as the winter snow. Love not the Shadow people who walk by night, for they are people of the Dark One, and are detestable to the Goddesses.   
  
End excerpt.  
  
Ruto Park, at the edge of the zora district, 1:00 a.m...  
  
"Ouch."  
  
Monster rubbed his aching temples. He wasn't used to thinking so hard for such a long time. Seated at the base of an old tree, Monster sighed and gazed around himself, taking a much-needed mental break to enjoy the park's flora. New Castletown was a very lively city, but there was something about earth and growing things that was...soothing. He'd missed it while he slept, among other things.   
  
Pulling his mind back to the task at hand, thinking, Monster asked the advice of the tree he leaned on. Ten minutes passed, with no more than the tree's pithy comment on the rain that had fallen two weeks previous. Monster remembered too late that the tree wouldn't register that it had been asked a question for several days. The earth was completely out of the conversation; it was still reeling from events millennia old.   
  
He felt a small nose nuzzle his arm, and looked down to see a rough-looking keaton, its gold fur matted and patchy, nicks and scars on its large ears. Monster reached over and scratched behind its ear, and the keaton wagged its tails and purred contentedly, sounding like it had swallowed gravel.  
  
"You should take better care of yourself, little one," Monster scolded.  
  
"Not an easy task these days, I'm afraid," the keaton rasped. It stepped closer, and placed a paw on Monster's lap politely. "May I?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
The keaton primly hopped onto Monster's lap, curled up, and laid down. "Thank you. I've been a bit under the weather, lately." It swished one tail gently.  
  
"I'm starting to notice that about many things. How did it come about?"  
  
The keaton yawned and turned its narrow eyes upward in disbelief. "Oh, it's been coming about for a long time. You mean you haven't noticed it? The Goddesses are faltering; it's as though the whole world is smothering. Why do you think you yourself are so weak, gentle one?"  
  
Monster shrugged. "I'd just chalked it up to being asleep for ten millennia." He thought for a moment. "The Goddesses have never failed before; what ails them now?"  
  
The keaton cocked its ears, as though muddled. "I'm not certain. Every century or so, my kin and I can feel a tension build up in the world. Usually the tension releases, but for the last nine build-ups or so, this hasn't happened. The tension just...lessens a bit. Something has stopped happening, and it's sickening everything. Neither I nor any other spirit I see has the energy it needs; we're all getting a bit glum and run-down, almost as if we are starving as mortal creatures do. I can't explain it so well, this is new."  
  
Monster had a nagging feeling that he could explain it, if he could remember...something. While he was dreaming, he'd remembered so many things, important things, but now that he was awake he couldn't concentrate enough to find them again.  
  
"What a shame..." he muttered to himself. "I wish I was cleverer at this sort of thing." He stroked the keaton's rough fur and thought for a while. This was tiring work; he knew something was wrong, not only with his kymmate, but with everything. But he didn't even know what it was, let alone how to fix it! He wished his counterpart knew about it (whatever it was); he was the smart one... Monster was in sore need of more brainpower, and he knew he couldn't supply it himself. An idea struck him and he addressed the keaton, who was beginning to doze off.  
  
"Do you know any others of mine?" he asked.  
  
The keaton nodded, understanding the question even if few others would. "There is one far to the southwest who is awake."  
  
Monster smiled. 'Perfect.' "Would you be willing to carry a message for me, little one?"  
  
The keaton tipped its triangular head to one side for a moment, tails twitching. "I suppose I could be amenable to a small favor, yes," it said, with a bit of typically keaton dry humor. It knew that anything it did for one of these beings would be remembered in its favor later on. Monster leaned down to whisper in its scruffy ear, and then set the keaton gently of the ground. The little spirit fox danced around for a minute, as though finding its bearings, and then it was suddenly a small yellow speck in the distance, its legs a blur, heading southwest.  
  
Monster lay back on the grass and relaxed. Someone else could do some thinking for a while. He was exhausted. 'In fact, a brief nap wouldn't be uncalled for...'  
  
**  
  
Around five miles from the eastern border of Gerudia, 3:00 a.m...  
  
The young gerudo trudged glumly along the edge of the highway, not even bothering to thumb for rides anymore. In this day and age, hitchhikers were considered too dangerous or potentially nuts to bother about. The youth had sent Cielo back home a few hours ago; no sense in keeping a horse around when what was wanted was a low profile. 'Yeah, that'd be the way to keep Gran from findin' me: trot myself into New Castletown on a mare like a conquering general, or somethin'.'  
  
Headlights came up over the hill behind the gerudo, who stepped farther off the road to avoid the wind of the hover generators and let the vehicle pass. The teen was surprised when the sound of the generators softened to an idle whine, and there was a hiss of air brakes as the single huge wheel* of a rig was stopped right beside the youth. The gerudo looked up at the cab and took another step back apprehensively.  
  
A voice emerged from the darkened cab. "Ya walkin' on the wrong side, ya know," it spoke in hylian.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
The driver leaned over the passenger seat and poked his head out the window. "Where're ya headin', kid?"  
  
The accent was gerudian, but that...just wasn't right. "New Castletown."  
  
A dark arm waved. "Hop in, that's where I'm goin'."  
  
"Ah...No. I can walk."   
  
The driver snorted and popped the door open, speaking in gerudian this time. "Are you nuts, kid? That's a six-hour drive from here. Get in, no one's going to hurt you."  
  
That struck a chord. "I wasn't scared." The gerudo climbed in without another thought, and the driver put the rig in gear. The gerudo looked down out of the window as the rig's hydraulic wheel and hover generators hoisted the bulk of the vehicle a couple feet higher, and the rig lumbered out onto the highway, coming up to speed slowly.  
  
Studying the driver, the gerudo was more put off. Firstly, he was easily the biggest man the youth had ever seen. One of the only, but still... He looked to be almost seven feet tall, with the bulky V shape of an athlete. His fiery red hair was pulled into a topknot, and his clothes looked as though they'd been picked out by someone whose sense of style was a few centuries behind the times. What skin that showed was covered with swirling white and blue tattoos.   
  
Amber eyes met the gerudo's own. "I know I'm gorgeous, but I can't be that gorgeous. Whatcha' staring at, kid?"  
  
The gerudo looked down, flustered. "Nothing."  
  
"Okay." The big man shrugged and they sat in silence for a minute or so. "What's your name, kid?"  
  
The gerudo stared at the floor. "Gannondorf."  
  
"Good name. Old name," the man said blankly. "You can call me..." he glanced quickly up at the driver's license pinned to the visor. The kid didn't catch it. "Sam. So, what were you staring at? No need to be shy; I'm thick-skinned." Gannondorf was quiet. "Is it the clothes? The tattoos? I know what it is." The kid looked up. Sam was glaring at him sidelong. "I have something hanging out of my nose, don't I? Don't spare my feelings. That's it, isn't it?" He sounded deathly serious, but a twinkle in his eye gave him away.  
  
Gannondorf couldn't help grinning a little. "No, no. I'm sorry, I've just..." he scrambled for diplomatic words. Gran had held great stock by diplomacy. "I've just never seen a eunuch** of your...stature before."   
  
"Oh?" Sam grinned, flashing white teeth. "And how do you know I'm a eunuch at all?"  
  
Gannondorf smirked. "There's only one male allowed at a time."  
  
"Yeah?" Sam said. "And how do you know I'm not the prince running around incognito?"  
  
"I know."  
  
"So," said Sam, changing the subject, "what're your plans in New C.?"  
  
Gannondorf shrugged. "I'm looking for a family member I haven't seen in a while. I guess I'll just find some part-time work and stay in a motel or something while I look."  
  
"Uhhh-oh," grumbled Sam, "that won't work."  
  
Gannondorf scowled. "What do you mean?"  
  
"You going into Hyrule, kid," Sam answered gravely, "They won't let you work there until you're seventeen. How old are you, kid?"  
  
"Fourteen," Gannondorf said glumly. "Shit."  
  
"Yeah. You got anyone else you can stay with?"  
  
Gannondorf shook his head.  
  
Sam sighed. "I'm gonna' be in New C. for a few weeks. I think you'd better stick by me, kid."   
  
"I can take care of myself!" Gannondorf snapped, glaring daggers at the driver.  
  
"Oh, yeah?" Sam shot back, all traces of humor gone for the moment. "You ever been to one of these metros, kid? No? You think you can just show up, alone, unemployed? You wouldn't last a day." He ignored the kid's growing annoyance. "What did you bring with you, two, maybe three thousand denari? Nice. Real good idea, kid. So you'll be a pretty, fourteen-year-old eunuch with a wad of cash and no idea what he's doing. You're not a person, kid; you're something to be consumed."  
  
"I'm not a kid, and I DO know what I'm doing." Gannondorf was fuming. "And I don't need a complete stranger taking me under his wing, thanks anyway," he spat sardonically.  
  
Sam shrugged, letting it go. He chuckled to himself.  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"Oh, nothing," Sam said, glancing over. "Nothing you'd get."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean." The kid bristled.  
  
"The thought just occurred to me," Sam laughed, all smiles again, "that maybe the surgeon went a little trigger-happy when she fixed you and gave you a complementary lobotomy. It'd explain why you think you'll stay out of the gutter by yourself."  
  
That set the short-fused gerudo off. "How dare you! How dare you pass judgment on me! Do you have any idea to whom you are speaking?!" He caught himself too late, making a choking noise in his throat. "Oh, Sandmother..."  
  
To Gannondorf's surprise, Sam looked very patient, almost sympathetic. "Yeah," he said, "Yeah, in fact, I know exactly to whom I am speaking." He grinned, mimicking Gannondorf's inflection perfectly. Gannondorf was too mortified with himself to even force a smile.  
  
"This isn't funny," he croaked.  
  
Sam eyed the road. "Ah, sure it is, if you look at it the right way. That's the trouble with this younger generation," he went on, "they take themselves way too seriously. Relax a little, would you?"  
  
"What are you going to do?" Gannondorf looked as though he was trying to sink down through the floorboards.  
  
"What do you think? I'm going to drive us to New C. Then you're going to stick by me, and we'll find this relation of yours." Gannondorf opened his mouth to protest again. "I insist. Look, with all due respect, this going off on your own business at your age and with your title AND a complete lack of connections is a really stupid idea."  
  
Gannondorf crossed his arms. "Just because I'm a royal doesn't make me helpless, you know."  
  
"I didn't say you were, kid," Sam soothed. "But look, what if someone found out who you were, huh? Or what if you got into trouble, and word got back home that you were..." he fumbled, "...you know, in trouble. I'm as patriotic as the next guy; I'd be pretty pissed if my prince was found shot full of holes, or a debt slave in a house of ill repute, or whatever." Gannondorf paled. "You don't want to start a war, do you?"   
  
Gannondorf thought the man was serious until Sam winked. Still, he couldn't bring himself to get angry again. They sat without speaking for a long while, Sam whistling to himself, Gannondorf watching listlessly as scrub and cactus patches gradually gave way to rolling prairie.   
  
"Hey, kid."  
  
Gannondorf looked over at the driver. "What?"  
  
"You look tired," Sam said. "We've still got a few hours on the road; you're welcome to take a nap in the back if you'd like."  
  
Gannondorf peered suspiciously across the cab. "I don't think so, no."  
  
"Have it your own way, kid."  
  
Silence reigned again. Gannondorf became aware by degrees of just how monotonous long road trips could really be.  
  
'Grass grass grass grass grass grass; LOOK, a TREE! Grass grass grass grass...'  
  
"Cow."  
  
Sam glanced over. "Ah, sorry, kid. You bored? I don't blame you; this is boring work. At least you'll never have to worry about ending up like this, eh?" The joke was entirely lost on Gannondorf. Sam thought for a moment. "You ever heard this one, kid? A woman walks into a bar with a Chihuahua on a leash. The bartender says 'Sorry, lady, but no dogs allowed.' So she goes out and puts on a pair of dark glasses and walks back in with this Chihuahua. And the bartender says 'Hey, lady, no dogs allowed.' And she says 'This is a seeing-eye dog.' And then the bartender says 'You mean to tell me that that Chihuahua is a seeing-eye dog?' And the woman says 'They gave me a Chihuahua?!'" Sam waggled his eyebrows. "Ba-dum, psh!"  
  
His audience was silent.  
  
"Okay, okay, we'll try another one. You'll like this one." He cleared his throat. "Okay, so this eunuch goes to visit his grandmother, and when he gets there he sees she's taking a nap, right? So he just sits in the front room and reads and every now and then he takes a nut from a dish on the table and eats it. So the grandmother finally wakes up, and the eunuch sees he's finished off the nuts, and he says 'Hey, I'm sorry, Gran, I ate all the nuts in that dish there.' And she says 'That's okay; after I've sucked all the chocolate off them, I don't care for them much anyway.' Eh?"  
  
Gannondorf sighed.  
  
"Wow, tough room, tough room..." said Sam, not prepared to stop. "All right, we'll try a riddle. Everybody loves riddles. Stop me if you've heard this one." He cleared his throat again. "You're a bus driver. On the first stop you-"  
  
"Amber," said Gannondorf.  
  
Sam blinked. "Okay, so you've heard that one, huh? Well, how about this. A little girl wants a garden, so she-"  
  
"She buried her mother's shoe tree."  
  
"Oookay." Sam squinted. "You build this house, and-"  
  
"There aren't any stairs."  
  
"Aha!" Sam crowed, making his passenger jump. "I'm sorry, but the answer was 'white.' You stopped me too soon that time."   
  
Gannondorf stared at his traveling companion for a moment. "On second thought, a quick nap might not be a bad idea."  
  
Sam just smiled and continued humming.  
  
**  
  
A truckstop, 3:15 a.m...  
  
An old hylian stood looking rather forlorn alongside and equally old and forlorn hound in a parking space empty of all but a small puddle of oil.  
  
"Well, Rusty," the old man said deliberately. "I s'pose we'll have to make a couple phone calls."  
  
**  
  
The Hailey Building, 69th floor, 8:03 A.M...  
  
Callaghan walked into his office and found, to his consternation, that it was overrun with Monster. The aggravating little putz was sitting in Callaghan's chair with his feet propped up on the desk, flipping through a magazine and listening to headphones. Lipsyncing. He was so wrapped up in Monsterland that he didn't even look up when Callaghan entered the room.  
  
He looked quite comfortable. Content, even.  
  
...Oh, that just would not do.  
  
Since Callaghan had made it all the way up beside the chair without so much as a glance from his associate, Callaghan felt that fair warning had been given, and, without preamble, deftly kicked the chair over.  
  
"Ack!" The magazine went flying, and Monster went for a brief excursion backwards and downwards along with the chair. He stared up at his kymmate for a bit. Then he grinned. "Why, hello there. Are you that excited to see me? I'm touched."  
  
Callaghan glared down at the little snot, fighting the urge to kick him in the face. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Oh, nothing," Monster chirped, "just lying here, enjoying the scenery." He fluttered his eyelashes.  
  
How very sickening. "Did you forget our appointment today? Go get ready." He reached down and pulled off the headphones. Some idiot gerudo woman was warbling about something or other. Callaghan wasn't much for ballads, so he did the sensible thing and crushed the headphones' memory chip. The irritating music trailed off in a brief yet satisfying electronic whine.  
  
"Hey! I was listening to that, thank you very much."   
  
"We don't have time for this, flower. Do you want this to go badly?"  
  
Monster pouted. "I don't see why I have to go. He's your counterpart." He pointed to the holster strapped to Callaghan's chest. "And why that? Just because he's blindly attacked you for the past seven millennia doesn't mean he will this time. I think you're being paranoid."  
  
Callaghan rolled his eyes. "And where did you pick up a word that complex?"  
  
Monster looked aloof. "I had a very nice conversation with a psychiatrist yesterday. I do have a brain, you know. She was very clever. She thinks we need counseling."  
  
'Is there no end...?' He was dumbfounded, almost speechless. "Counseling?"  
  
Monster brightened. "Yeah! I even got her number, see?" He fished a business card out of his pocket and handed it up to Callaghan. "Personally, I think it's a very good idea."  
  
Callaghan read the number, looked at the card in consideration for a minute, and then very neatly placed the card in his mouth, chewed it thoroughly, and swallowed it. Monster blinked, his mouth hanging open a little. "Personally," Callaghan said, "I think you need to get off your lazy, worthless ass and get ready, before I have to help you."  
  
"Oh," Monster mumbled, slowly melting into a black cloud. "Maybe later, then."  
  
**  
  
The freeway outside New Castletown's suburbs, 8:45 a.m...  
  
"Hey, kid, wake up."  
  
"Ouch!" Rubbing his head where he'd cracked it against the cab ceiling, Gannondorf eased himself down from the bunk and back into his seat.  
  
Sam started maneuvering the rig to the far right, keeping one eye on the smaller hovers diving in and out of lanes. "Take a look out the window."  
  
Gannondorf glanced up and caught his breath. They were already in what seemed to be a city, buildings sprawling out as far as the eye could see around what had to be the tallest, biggest skyscrapers he'd ever seen. Not that he'd really seen any major cities in person... "Wow..." Adjectives beyond that were a little hard to find at the moment.  
  
Sam chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I said, too. And we're still fifteen miles away."  
  
"It's...a little bigger than I thought."  
  
Sam nodded with a knowing smile. "Oh, it's fairly sizable. A couple million, give or take."  
  
Gannondorf wasn't certain that he could imagine a number that huge, but didn't say anything. No point in encouraging any 'I told you so's.' Still, as intimidating as the city was, he really wasn't all that scared-just...excited. It was as though he was returning to an old friend.   
  
...In fact, he felt up to riding in like a conquering general, after all.  
  
**  
  
Apt. 99, 10:00 a.m...  
  
"Master, where did I come from?"  
  
Nearly snorting corn flakes up his nose, Link sputtered for a bit before meeting the earnest gaze of the bot across the table. Sheik had been pretty quiet for a few days; at first it had been a nice change from constant sunshine, but after a while it had gotten a little depressing to watch him mope around and sigh. The unusual question was just a bit out of the blue.  
  
"Um...A factory, I guess..." Link said. 'I really shouldn't be surprised by this stuff anymore.' Still, it was odd trying to deal with a machine that seemed at times to be self-aware.  
  
"Oh," the bot replied softly, disappointed. Then, remembering something, he got up and left the room for a minute. Link stared after him curiously. Before long the bot returned, with a pencil and scrap of paper, and sat down again. Very slowly, with his tongue stuck out a tiny bit, he drew something. He shoved the paper toward Link and asked, "What is this?"  
  
Link studied the paper. The drawing was an example of freehand CAD, all smooth curves and perfectly straight lines. It looked, basically, like a small harp. 'What are those little harps called again? Oh, that's it...' He pushed the paper back. "It's called a lyre, I think." After a bit of thought, he added, "Why?"  
  
"I think I used to own one."   
  
'Maybe he's got a corrupt file somewhere...' Link mused. He wasn't very convinced, though...   
  
**  
  
  
  
* Since freight trucks are much too heavy for hover generators to support completely, most of the weight of the truck is borne by a big ol' wheel placed in the center behind the cab. It makes the rig look sort of like huge see-saw. Counterweights on the front and rear ends of the truck keep it from tipping over.  
  
** Over the millennia, the gerudian gene pool has been contaminated somewhat. One of the effects of this is the occurrence of extra male children (about one in every two hundred births). To amend this problem, the males who aren't descended from the ruling dynasty are snipped. Next best thing to a female, right? 


End file.
